


Fuck Mountain Dew

by thesaltydragon, UnfortunatelySux



Series: Fuck Mountain Dew [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Almost smut, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Bodyswap, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Jealous Jeremy, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Sexual Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, almost like a crack fic but written seriously, body image issues, but it gets pretty close, not quite, pudgy michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 161,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaltydragon/pseuds/thesaltydragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfortunatelySux/pseuds/UnfortunatelySux
Summary: Michael and Jeremy wake up with a few things... out of place.





	1. (please do not fuck mountain dew)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy POV by thesaltydragon  
> Michael POV by UnfortunatelySux

Jeremy’s eyes opened slowly as the light came through his window. He sighed breathily, the air from his mouth chilly. His head didn’t hurt this morning, which was promising. He figured it was about time to get up, so there was no sense laying in his warm bed just to be coaxed back into indefinite slumber and miss the bus. Pushing his blankets off of himself and standing up, he stretched, his back giving a satisfying pop.

Still groggy from a late night of video games and weird sodas at Michael’s house, Jeremy made his way into the bathroom. The cement floor was cold on his feet as he trudged, but he was frankly too tired to notice. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes so that he could see better. 

Only, it didn’t work. His vision didn’t clear with any of the vigorous rubbing. He turned the sink on and let the cold water run over his face. He cupped his hands and put his eyes in the water that gathered in them, hoping that flushing them would fix his dilemma. He dried his face off and tried to focus on the towel in his hands. 

Why was it still so blurry? He didn’t even have a headache. He tried focusing on something else, a red toothbrush in a cup on the counter. It was further away, but only a little less blurry. Jeremy couldn’t understand what was going on. 

It took him about four seconds for his brain to realize that he didn’t own a red toothbrush and neither did his father. Theirs were blue and purple. He looked back at the towel in his hands—green. His house had white towels. 

Only a little dizzy from the confusion, he raced back through the bathroom door and into his bedroom, now a great deal more illuminated by the ever-brightening sunrise. Except, this wasn’t his bedroom. 

The good news: Jeremy recognized where he was. This was Michael’s basement, which he’d turned into his sort of room/hangout. Jeremy knew this place well. 

The bad news: He didn’t remember staying over. He thought for sure he’d gotten a ride back home the night before. He must have dreamt that. 

His confusion lifted as he told himself he was all right—this was Michael’s house, not a stranger’s. Jeremy would be okay as soon as he found Michael. 

He had stayed over many times on school nights in the past. Michael’s moms had always gotten Jeremy to school on time, clothed and fed. It was never really an issue. That being said, Jeremy made his way upstairs where he expected to find Michael eating his breakfast. His best friend was surprisingly an early riser, but unsurprisingly, only for food. Oftentimes, Jeremy would be left in the basement asleep while Michael snuck up to eat. 

As Jeremy climbed the stairs, he tried to ignore the blurriness of his vision, hoping it would end up going away. When he reached the top, he called out. 

“Michael?” he stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice. It felt strange in his throat, foreign. It had sounded almost familiar, but not quite like him. There must have been something quite odd in those old sodas Michael had them drink the night before that made Jeremy feel this way that morning. 

The smell of bacon and toast slammed into his nose as he rounded the corner from the staircase into the kitchen. He hadn’t gotten a reply from Michael, so maybe he was currently scarfing something down. 

Jeremy walked around the bar to the kitchen table, where there sat Michael’s mother, Maria, and her wife, Jasmine, but no Michael. 

Jeremy opened his mouth to ask where his friend was, but one of the women interrupted him. 

“Michael, honey, what did you do to your glasses?” The taller one Jeremy thought was Maria looked disappointed. 

Jeremy blinked. He turned around, expecting to see Michael behind him, but no one was there. 

“I’m talking to you, Michael,” she sighed. “Just because you don’t have your glasses doesn’t mean you’re a different person. That was cute when you were seven.” She took a sip of her coffee while her wife nodded in agreement. 

“She’s right, Mike,” the other woman said. “Go get them on. You didn’t break them again, did you? We know you hate your contacts.”

Jeremy was aghast. Were they talking to him? They thought he was Michael? That didn’t make sense. Jeremy was about a hundred shades paler than him, and a few inches shorter, too. 

This must have been a dream. That was it. This was a dream that just didn’t make sense. That’s why Jeremy’s head wasn’t hurting like it always did and why he couldn’t see well or remember staying the night at Michael’s. He was dreaming. 

“Right,” he said, playing along with the dream smugly, because when he knew he was dreaming, it always felt like he was cheating the system. “I’ll go get my glasses.” He turned around on his heel, ignoring the foreign sound his voice made—common dream characteristic—and went back downstairs to Michael’s room. 

Jeremy knew Michael always kept his glasses on top of his television. It wasn’t a particularly safe place to keep them, but it had become a habit, and Jeremy had witnessed several times Michael had nearly freaked because he put them somewhere else and forgot where. 

Grabbing them from their precarious perch, he noticed they were filthy. He rolled his eyes. Even knowing this was a dream, he couldn’t help the urge to clean the lenses. It was just like Michael to let his glasses accumulate dust. 

He trudged his way back to the bathroom, where he used a square of toilet paper to wipe the lenses carefully. Putting them on, he noticed a big difference in his vision. Everything was crisp and outlined. He looked in the mirror. 

Michael’s face stared back at him, his hair a complete mess and his shirt collar stretched off of one shoulder. For a dream, this was detailed. 

The sound of a phone ringing—Michael’s phone; the ringtone was a Dubstep version of the Legend of Zelda theme music—scared Jeremy half to death. He jumped, his foot tangling with the pants he was wearing, causing him to fall. His elbow hit the hard floor head on, and it hurt like hell. 

If he wasn’t so invested in who was calling, Jeremy would have realized that dreams don’t allow one to feel pain. 

Nonetheless, he scrambled up and over to Michael’s bed, retrieving said boy’s phone and tapping the accept call button right before it was too late. 

“Hello?” The voice he heard when he spoke was now obviously Michael’s. 

The voice he heard on the other line, though, was his own.

———————-

Michael blinked his eyes open, a sharp pain instantly hitting him. He internally grumbled. Why the hell did his head hurt so much? He hadn’t even gotten up yet. He briefly pondered that maybe he shouldn’t have drank so much of that soda when Jeremy had been over last night. He huffed, roughly pushing the blankets away from his body and stretching his arms out above his head. He sighed as his stiff muscles flexed pleasurably.

Michael liked to get up early so that he could eat breakfast, however that did not make getting out of bed every morning any easier. He flinched at the sudden stabbing pain in the back of his skull; a migraine this early? What a shitty way to start your day.

He sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed to rest on the floor. He liked the feeling of the cool cement on his feet in the mornings; it helped draw him from his drowsiness. Or at least, it did when it was actually there. Michael frowned in confusion as his feet came into contact with rough carpeting instead of the cold cement of his basement floor. He blinked, finally stopping to take in his surroundings.

He recognised them instantly, of course; he was in Jeremy’s room. That realisation brought two new questions to Michael’s attention. Why was he in Jeremy’s room (without Jeremy, as far as he could tell) and why was he able to _see_ his surroundings so clearly? 

Michael brought his hand up to his face, wondering if he had somehow managed to fall asleep with his glasses on, but his confusion only increased as his face only made contact with skin. Michael frowned bitterly, he already felt miserable and he had only just woken up. For some reason he just felt… uncomfortable. Why did his head hurt so bad? Why were his eyes suddenly not broken? Why the hell was he at Jeremy's house? Why the fuck did he feel so horny? 

Michael turned around and looked back at the bed. Where was Jeremy? Michael almost always woke up first, but he guessed that today Jeremy must have beaten him today.

Michael ignored the nagging discomfort, finally rising and heading into the bathroom. He immediately went to the sink, splashing water onto his face messily to try to make himself feel more a bit more awake. He grabbed the hand towel from the rack beside the sink blindly, eyes closed to keep the water that was still dripping down his face out of them. He scrubbed at his face with the towel harshly, frowning in annoyance as the rough fabric irritated various spots on his face. He groaned internally. Had he really managed to break out that badly overnight? Damn. He supposed Jeremy had been right when he warned him that a diet consisting mostly of junk food and soda was bad for his skin.

He pulled the towel away from his face, automatically locking his gaze on his reflection in the mirror in search of the acne spots he had felt. Only he didn’t lock eyes with himself. He locked eyes with Jeremy. In the Mirror. 

What the hell. Michael briefly stopped to wonder if he had gotten super high last night and forgotten about it, but all he could remember from the night before was hanging out with Jeremy before taking him home. After he had gotten back he had immediately crashed, he had been hit hard by the tail end of a sugar rush due to that weird type of Mountain dew that him and Jeremy had tried out. 

“What the Fuck?” Michael yelped, his voice coming out far more awkward and nasally than he was used to, causing it to crack halfway through the word ‘fuck’. Michael was startled by a firm call from down the hall.

“Language, Jeremy. Watch it!” Mr. Heere had become a lot more 'fatherly' since the squip incident. He'd begun putting in an effort, at least. But that didn’t explain why Michael was currently the subject of said fatherly attention. He looked down at his body, bewildered by the thin frame and pale skin. He patted his stomach through his shirt; no extra fat or muffin top to be found. Michael felt his headache stab at him again, a sharp pain ringing through his skull. He swiftly made his way back to the bed, grabbing Jeremy’s cell phone from where it sat charging on the bedside table. 

He unlocked it, tapping on the ‘contacts’ icon and scrolling through until he found the contact labelled ‘Player 1’. He hit the call button, bringing the phone up to his ear anxiously. He listened to the droning ring for longer than he would have liked before the line suddenly clicked open, a winded voice calling out a “Hello?” His voice.

“Jeremy?” Michael felt weird speaking in a voice so familiar yet not his own. He figured if he was here, chances were Jeremy was in his place; though how, he had no idea.

Jeremy, slowly beginning to realize that maybe this _wasn’t_ a dream, hesitated before responding. He knew his breathing could be heard on the other line, but his brain was working faster than he could care. Finally, he took his best guess. 

“Michael?” His voice—Michael’s voice?—didn’t crack. Jeremy’s would have. This was all too detailed to be a dream, wasn’t it? 

Michael ran a hand through his (or, well, Jeremy's) hair, grimacing as his fingers snagged in a knot painfully. “So, uh, is it just me, or is something weird?” Michael’s casual joking tone sounded weird in Jeremy’s voice; uncomfortable and unsure.

“S-Something’s definitely weird,” Jeremy whispered into the phone. The stutter was all wrong coming from Michael’s voice. “This-” he cleared his throat. “This isn’t a dream, is it?” he asked, fear creeping its way down his back. 

“Well, I mean, if this killer headache and impressive lack of body fat have anything to say about it, I’d say no.” Michael frowned in confusion. What the hell had happened to make him pull some weird freaky friday shit with his best friend out of nowhere? "This is seriously fucked up."

Jeremy felt more comfortable knowing Michael was in this with him. Michael made everything seem like it’d be okay. Letting out a sigh that sounded too much like his best friend, Jeremy replied. “Well,” he said, trying to laugh, “Now I’m aware of this weight difference, thanks.” He immediately regretted saying that; what kind of friend outright called another friend fat like that? Not that Michael was _fat_ , but the difference in their builds was greatly astounding, especially when it happened overnight. 

Michael gave a bittersweet smile even though he knew Jeremy couldn’t see him. “Yeah, sucks doesn’t it? It’s pretty fuckin’ annoying. I bet you’re gonna bump into, like, everything because you’re not used to actually taking up space.” Michael snorted at the thought. Jeremy was like flat stanley with how easy it was for him to weave his way through any obstacles he encountered. Suddenly, Michael gasped in realization, exclaiming a loud “Jeremy! Shouldn't we be more _concerned_ about this?!" This wasn't something that just _happened_. Although, now that he was looking down at his new body... "Wait, Yo, panic aside for a sec, this could be cool.

Jeremy took to pacing around Michael’s bed. He thought if this was really happening, he should learn how to walk better with this change in bodily volume. He didn’t think it’d be that hard, after all, he had gone upstairs with no difficulty. Just when Michael exclaimed his name--in his own voice--Jeremy walked right into the bedpost. Trying to ignore the pain in his side, he answered Michael. “No,” he said in annoyance. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Michael bounced on his feet, trying to get used to the new limbs. "I can wear cool clothes for skinny people and actually look good with your body!” Michael cringed as his voice reached an uncomfortably high pitch. Damn, he was gonna have to get that under control. Jeremy’s voice was a mess. "Twink bod."

Jeremy stopped rubbing his hurt side. “What?” He managed to get Michael’s voice to crack that time. “If you’re _me_ , you won’t look good regardless!” He sat down on the bed. “And you _know_ I don’t know what a twink is!” 

Michael laughed wickedly, sprinting over the Jeremy’s closet. “Fuck, dude, I may be having a stroke or heart attack or whatever, but at least I can try to look hot in the meantime.” He shifted so that the phone was held between his cheek and shoulder, freeing his hands to sift through Jeremy’s clothes. “Also, shut the fuck up you dumbass, I have literally told you a million times that you’re cute as hell. I’m super gay. I never lie about cute boys.”

Jeremy scoffed, making it loud enough so Michael could hear it clearly over any static between the phone lines. “I’m the palest twig on earth,” he argued. “But-” A smile formed on his lips. “Now _you’re_ the palest twig on earth! I’m free from not being able to open my own drink at lunch!” Somehow being, well, Michael had given Jeremy the urge to make light of serious matters. 

Michael laughed, of course _that’s_ what he would look forward to doing. “Jer, buddy, listen. I know that with you being straight and all you don’t really know anything about the gays, but let me tell you, twinks bodies like yours are very powerful. Strong sub energy. Skinny and pale is, like, the fuckin’ gay dream.”

“Michael,” Jeremy warned, “I’d rather you not say that. For one, it’s a lie. For two, that’s my voice you’re saying it in. For three, I don’t need to hear your boy talk, jeez.” He sighed again. “I could talk about girls in your voice, how would you like that?” 

Michael paused, eyes narrowing in challenge as his mouth curled into a smirk. “Look dude, I already have to listen to you wack-ass straight people talking about pussy or whatever so hush. Secondly, I don’t give a shit if you try to girl talk in my voice, because I’m confident in my sexuality. Which is, of course, is that of a gay boy.” he snickered quietly. “Maybe you should try it sometime. I’m serious about that this shit. You really are cute. No homo though, of course.” Michael grinned as he tacked on the last bit, making fun of how often Jeremy said just that phrase.

“Look,” Jeremy started. “I’m just trying to joke around, man. If I think about this too much, I swear, I’ll start- I’ll panic or something.” He took a deep breath. “And stop saying I’m cute. I’m not cute.” He paused. “Well, now I am. I’m you.” He didn’t quite know where that came from, but he didn’t take it back. “Do I really say no homo that much?”

Michael’s smile had dropped into a worried frown as soon as Jeremy mentioned panicking, but had quickly transformed back into a slight smile as the other boy continued. “Dude, the other day you tripped into me and then said ‘No homo’ when I caught you. Also thanks for saying I'm cute. That's gay. Nice.”

“Shut up, _Jeremy_ ,” Jeremy said, his smile returning to his face. He was deflecting, sure, but at least it would change the topic. He could deal with those problems later. “Just go be a twink with your dumb dad at the breakfast table.” He noticed he was absolute shit at acting like Michael. This would probably come back to bite him in the ass.

Michael laughed loudly as Jeremy attempted to mimic him. “Holy shit,” he snorted. “For a theater nerd your acting is pretty awful.” He took a breath to calm himself before continuing. “Anyway, as fun as this is, we do need to figure out why the hell we’ve been freaky fridayed and what we’re gonna do to fix it. I don’t know about you, but I don’t really want to live the rest of my life in someone else's body- Shit!” Michael exclaimed suddenly, cutting himself off. “How the fuck are you going to get to school? You don’t _fucking_ know how to drive!”

Jeremy tried to think quickly. “I’ll just go really slow and follow other cars!” he decided.

Michael audibly groaned at the other boys words, pinching the bridge of his nose. Damn, this headache was really persistent. He huffed quietly, shuffling over to the bed and tossing down the clothes he had chosen. “Please, god, do not do that. I already drive a PT cruiser, if I become the asshole driving like a blind dog then people are gonna beat the shit out of me every day for the rest of my goddamn life. Just- Get dressed. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Michael began undressing, swiftly tugging the oversized sleep shirt over his head and tossing it to the ground.”Oh, and Jeremy?” he added, devious smirk returning. “Don’t worry. I’ll try to keep my gross gay impulses to myself and not take advantage of your amazing twink body.”

\--------------------

Michael hung up before Jeremy had a chance to respond, snickering to himself as he finished getting ready. He pulled on a flattering pair of black skinny jeans which he knew for a fact looked amazing on Jeremy, pointedly making sure to avoid focusing on the lower half of his body for too long. He may have made jokes, but Michael wasn’t an asshole. He wasn’t going to do anything to his friend's body that he wouldn’t have wanted. Michael moved to pull the shirt he had chosen over his head, but reflexively stopped to grimace at how small it was. He instinctively went to stretch the fabric out as much as he could so that it would be loose around his torso, trying to prevent it from revealing his stomach rolls and muffin top through the thin fabric. But, right before he began pulling at the fabric, he remembered that it wasn’t his body.

He didn’t have to worry about the shirt being tight enough to reveal the chubbiness which he so desperately despised. Jeremy was skinny. Jeremy could wear the stylish clothes that he always saw being modeled so perfectly in the mall. He didn’t have to hate himself and fight through the day constantly wondering if people were looking, if they could see his imperfections. He could eat in public without the constant looming fear of people watching the fat kid eating like the pig he is.

Fuck, he didn't even have to wear a too-big hoodie all the time like a goddamn security blanket. This was completely different. He pulled the shirt on, looking at himself in the full length mirror. The shirt was a simple green tee shirt with a small white patch that read 'chill out'. The fabric it was made of was the kind that was weirdly cold and soft, and super stretchy (Michael realised then that he wouldn't have been able to stretch it out if he wanted to).

Damn Jeremy looked hot. Or... he looked hot? Whatever. Michael pulled on Jeremy's shoes and quickly stumbled downstairs. He grabbed his (Jeremy's) backpack from the living room and quickly snuck out of the front door. 

He sighed in relief once he was outside. No offense to Mr.Heere, but he didn’t want to have to deal with him. Michael sighed as he set off down the sidewalk in the direction of his house. Why the hell did Jeremy sweat so damn easily?

\-------------

“I didn’t _think_ you’d-” Jeremy tried to defend himself, but Michael had hung up before he could get the words out. Great, he had to get Michael dressed. That wasn’t weird.

Walking to the dresser, Jeremy managed to bump into two separate things: the other bedpost and a chair that was in the middle of the floor left over from last night’s activities. He decided that Michael was right--he’d be running into everything. 

He opened a drawer on the dresser. Underwear. He closed the drawer. Opening another drawer, he found shirts. Half of them were folded neatly, probably by one of Michael’s mothers, and the other half was crammed into the left side crudely. Jeremy recognized the crumpled ones to be the ones Michael wore more often, his favorites. He picked one of those up, untangling its sleeves from another shirt’s. This one was white with a simple Filipino flag on the top left corner, where a pocket would be. Michael wore this to sleep in, Jeremy remembered, but no one would notice if he put on the hoodie Michael never left home without on top of it. 

Jeremy put the shirt on the bed and threw the hoodie--which he’d picked up off the floor by the dresser--on top of it. There was one drawer left, and he suspected it would have pants in it. Opening it, he grabbed the first pair he saw. Unfolding them, he couldn’t help but think how big they looked to him. Jeremy couldn’t fit into these, surely. Then he remembered, he wasn’t Jeremy. These were Michael’s pants, which fit Michael’s body, which is what Jeremy was...inhabiting. 

Now came the hard part. He had to undress himself. He’d seen Michael shirtless many times, like when they’d gone to the beach in middle school and when Jeremy--several times--had spilled some sort of drink or food on Michael and his shirt needed cleaning. He wasn’t worried about the top half. The bottom half would be weird. 

He tried to imagine he was still himself, closing his eyes and pulling his pajamas off one leg at a time. The chill of Michael’s basement’s air conditioning made it hard to ignore that he had a lot more leg than usual. Still, he did his best to get dressed normally. 

Pulling the hoodie on last, he hesitated. It looked so big compared to his memories of his own body, and his mind expected it to be so. Of course, it slipped on with no problem. Wearing his best friend’s signature clothing was a feeling Jeremy didn’t quite know how to categorize. It was familiar, yet wrong on many levels.

Pushing away those thoughts, he went back upstairs, avoiding running into things on the way. The Mell family had a thing about shoes in the house, so Jeremy knew Michael’s would be by the front door. He grabbed Michael’s backpack, surprised at how easy it was to pick up due to having more muscle than he was used to. Passing through the kitchen, he was relieved that Michael’s mothers had left the room. He didn’t want to butcher a conversation with them now that he knew this was real.

He walked out, picking up the white sneakers, and waited for Michael on the porch. He felt like he was forgetting something, but he shook the idea away. Michael would be there soon, and he could breathe again.

\---------------- 

“Hey, Jeremy, dude!” Michael had finally arrived at his house, surprised to find, well.. himself waiting for him on the porch. He strode up to him, wiping at his forehead.

“Dude, what the fuck, why are you so sweaty? You need to do some goddamn cardio or something, this can’t be healthy.”

“Stop insulting me!” Jeremy stood up, winded at how fast he’d tried to move versus the force required to move his weight. He pushed the glasses that had fallen down his nose back up toward his eyes. “You’re not gonna let me drive?”

Michael scoffed. “There’s no way in hell you're driving. Damn, dude did you even look in the mirror? My hair is all kinds of fucked.” Michael automatically moved closer, running his hands through Jeremy's (his own?) hair in an attempt to tame the unruly mess. 

Jeremy instinctively swatted at Michael’s hands. He didn’t like people coming at him, even if it was himself— _especially_ if it was himself. That made it even more foreign to him. “Would you stop?” he said. “Your hair is always like this!”

Michael shrugged and stepped back a little. “What can I say? I love rocking the 'just fucked’ bed head look.” Michael smiled at Jeremy deviously, mildly annoyed that he now he to look up at the other boy.

“Oh, shut up,” Jeremy tried not to laugh, but it came out anyway, in a snort type noise that usually meant Michael was high off his ass. “You’ve never been fucked. I’ve been fucked the same amount as you.” He paused. “I’ve _fucked_ the same amount as you.” There, now it made sense. “Because I’m straight,” he muttered, almost as if he were convincing himself of it. 

Michael grinned at him, looking highly amused. “Damn, Jerm, nice, fuck me up!” at this point even Michael wasn't quite sure what he meant.

Michael pushed the backpack strap that had begun slipping down his arm back up. His shoulder was sore from having to support the weight of the bag which was mildly annoying. No wonder Jeremy had to wear the backpack properly, just slinging it over one shoulder was painful. He wasn't used to the lack of solidity that came with Jeremy's body. He was so thin he felt like the wind could sweep him away at any time. Michael held his hand out to Jeremy expectantly. “Keys?”

Jeremy looked down at Michael, which was strange by itself. “What?” he asked. Then, “Oh!” He put a hand into the hoodie’s pocket, hoping that was where the keys were. Thankfully, he pulled out an old dirty keyring with two keys on it. He held it up over Michael’s head. “Here,” he taunted, “if you can reach them.”

Michael gaped up at Jeremy. “Oh my God.” He whispered incredulously. “You fuckin’ egg. How dare you. Give it here!” Michael reached up for the keys determinedly. 

Jeremy held the keys up higher. “The power’s already gone to my head, Michael,” he said, disappointed in his own behavior. He really was becoming Michael, Jesus. 

“You better watch it! Don’t forget that it’s _my_ body. I know all the weaknesses.” Michael warned, but the threat wasn’t as effective as it would have been if he hadn’t had a massive grin on his face while he said it.

“I know all of mine too!” Jeremy retaliated. “I could take your weak ass down!” He wouldn’t, though. He didn’t know what would happen if he hurt his body. Would he feel it? Did Michael feel it when Jeremy ran into things? He hoped not. 

Michael scoffed. “It’s you who’s the weak ass! I have more meat in one leg than you have on your whole damn body, I would demolish you!” He paused, suddenly putting the arm that was reaching for the keys back down as he pouted. “Which, I guess means you would demolish me. Fuck.” 

Jeremy smirked. He was glad they were being light hearted about this situation. Otherwise, he’d probably be shaking on the ground in a mess. He dropped the keys on Michael’s head and laughed a very Jeremy laugh. “Just drive.” 

Michael was still pouting as he grabbed the keys off his head and turned to lead them to his car. He slid into the driver's seat, feeling uncomfortably small as compared to how he usually was. “Hope your goddamn feet can reach the pedals.” He teased, smirking again.

Jeremy scoffed. “You know I’m not _that_ short, right?” he grumbled as he climbed into the passenger seat, throwing Michael’s backpack in the back seat behind them. The car felt smaller to him now. 

Michael threw Jeremy's backpack at him, starting up the car. “Damn, I have to adjust the mirrors. How annoying.” Michael did what he needed to in order to drive as Jeremy but was mildly distracted by the lingering headache that wouldn't seem to fade. “Dude, what's up with your head? I've had a wicked headache ever since I woke up.” He inquired as he began pulling out of the driveway.

Jeremy started to throw his backpack in the back, too, but stopped when Michael mentioned his headache. “Oh, shit.” If Michael’s face could flush, Jeremy was sure it did. He felt the way he always did when he became even paler than usual. His throat wanted to collapse on itself. “Shit, Michael,” he repeated, cursing a few more times. He could tell his eyes held the worry he was feeling.

Michael was, understandably, concerned by this. He cast Jeremy a quick glance before refocusing on the road. “Should I be worried about something?”

“I didn’t want to tell you, but please, please, Michael, don’t hate me,” Jeremy begged. He didn’t think of how it sounded to come from Michael’s voice. “It’s-” he couldn’t say it. Not yet. He wasn’t doing well enough yet to say it. His mouth, even if it was Michael’s, couldn’t form the word SQUIP. “It-It never actually went away,” he admitted, voice small. “Not completely.”

Michael felt his heart stutter in fear as he jerked to face Jeremy, accidentally causing the car to swerve roughly. “Fuck-” Michael focused back on the road. “What? Are you serious? What the fuck, Jeremy! What if it suddenly started controlling you again and no one knew! Shit!” Michael took a deep breath, attempting to calm his pounding heart. When he spoke again, he tried to keep his volume more under control; he still hadn’t gotten used to just how loud Jeremy could be. “Are you okay? You told me about all that fucked up shit it was saying about you, it’s not still doing that is it?”

Jeremy felt like he was about to cry. “Please calm down!” he pleaded. “It’s- It’s weak, I swear! I can’t even see it anymore! Its voice is just there sometimes, like a whisper!” He faced forward, not able to look at Michael. “Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t want you to worry your ass off about me.”

Michael sighed. “Of course I’m not mad, I’m not that much of an asshole. I know it’s not your fault. But I'm obviously gonna worry, because how could I not! Shit, dude, how often does it try to mess with you?”

“Not often!” Jeremy tried his best to calm Michael down. “Only, like, three times a day!”

Michael choked. “Three times a day! What the fuck, how is that not often? Jeremy!” Michael’s headache increased suddenly, making him grimace. Jeremy had been dealing with this shit all this time? Why didn’t he tell him? Surely they could’ve done something about it by now if he had known. Damn. Michael felt awful for not realizing anything was wrong. What kind of best friend doesn’t notice something like that?

Jeremy flinched at Michael’s tone. “I’m sorry! I thought I could handle it! I was handling it! I don’t know what happened, but--” He paused. “Do you think this whole thing is because of it?” He turned back to look at Michael.

Michael frowned as he considered it. “Maybe? I don’t know.” he sighed, glancing over at Jeremy again with a guilty look. “Sorry I yelled, man. It’s just- That squip can pull some really fucked up shit, you know?” he smiled sadly. “I just… don’t want anything bad to happen, y’know? You’re my best friend, I don’t know what I would do without you.” That wasn’t entirely true, because Michael did, in fact, know what he would do without Jeremy. He would struggle to keep living. But Jeremy didn’t need to know that specific piece of information.

Suddenly, everything came crashing down on Jeremy. The guilt he still felt for harshly leaving Michael alone, the fear of him finding out the SQUIP was still active becoming a reality, this entire body swapping nonsense—Jeremy began to cry. He consciously tried to be quiet with it, but Michael’s body worked different than his, and it came out as loud sobs. As his body shook, so did the whole car. 

Michael panicked. “Jeremy? Um? Ah! Fuck,” Michael pulled the car over, quickly turning to face the crying boy. “Hey, dude, A-Are you okay?” Michael started to reach out to him, but stopped halfway. “Fuck, are- Can I touch you?”

Jeremy tried to speak between sobs, unable to control the volume of his voice. “Y-Yes,” he managed to reply lamely. He was embarrassed to say the least, but he couldn’t worry about that now. He was focused on calming down so Michael wouldn’t have to deal with him like this anymore.

Michael instantly leaned across the car, pulling Jeremy into a tight hug. He rubbed his back as he sobbed, doing his best to comfort him. While Michael did have experience when it came to _having_ a panic attack, he did not have much knowledge when it came to helping someone else having one.

Jeremy all but melted into Michael’s embrace, immediately feeling a smidge better than before just from knowing his best friend was there with him. As Michael rubbed his back, his breathing stabilized and his shaking turned back into small tremors. Once he could make himself speak again, he apologized. “I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to- this wasn’t supposed to- I’m sorry.” It’s all he could say. It was his fault all of this had even happened. He’d bought the goddamn computer that caused all of this, whether it was indirectly or not. “J-Just-” he tried. “Let’s just go to school and figure this shit out.”

Michael pulled back so that he could look Jeremy in the eyes. “Are you sure? We could just, like, skip, y’know. It’s no big deal, I mean, you’re obviously not feeling great right now and I don’t know that going to school and trying to deal with- Oh fuck, wait, we’re going to have to go to each others classes! I have a god damn exam today! Shit.” Michael somehow managed to distract himself from the current issue. “Oh, wait, sorry Uh-” he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

Jeremy wiped his eyes on the hoodie sleeves. “What about skipping?” He reiterated, voice scratchy from the crying. “You just offered! You can make up a test, you’ve done it before! This is more important! I can’t pretend to be you!” If he were himself, Jeremy’s voice would have been cracking the whole time he spoke, as it always did when he rose his volume level. With Michael’s smooth tone saying his words, he felt more intimidating. Like Michael would listen to him. 

“Yes, skipping. Is what you want to do, then? We can do that.” Michael confirmed, unsure why his train of thought had fallen apart so suddenly. 

“M-My dad’ll kill me for sure, but we _have_ to skip today,” Jeremy reasoned. “Do you really want me acting like you all day? Or do you really want to go to theatre practice? I’m the lead, you know. It’s off-book week. No scripts. Do you have all of Hamlet’s lines memorized, Michael?” He didn’t know why he was still trying to convince him. Michael had already said they could do it. This was overkill. It was unnecessary. It would probably just make Michael angry. 

“Yeah, Fuck that, dude. Let's go somewhere bangin’ and chill. Where do you wanna spend our day playing hooky?” Michael smiled and sat back in his seat, looking over at him excitedly.

At least he wasn’t angry, Jeremy thought, letting a breath of relief out. “Honestly,” he said, “wherever is quiet enough so we can figure out what the fuck is going on.” He gave a curt nod for emphasis. “Where would that be? Are your moms at work all day?” Jeremy would prefer to do his thinking in a familiar place, like Michael’s basement. His own house was off limits due to his dad’s...home business. 

Michael frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. “Ah, well, they don’t leave for work until ten, so we’ll have to do something until then… do you wanna go get some food or something? My treat- oh fuck wait, I guess it would be your treat, since you have my wallet. But, anyway.. food? Yes?”

Jeremy absently put a hand back into the hoodie pocket where he’d found the keys. A wallet was there, too. Probably thick. Michael’s family was low key loaded. That’s how they could afford so many vintage sodas and arcade games. “Food, yes,” he replied. “I’m- well, you’re super hungry. I- well, _you_ skipped breakfast.” He tapped his finger on his chin. “Am I getting these pronouns right? I feel like they’re wrong. I dunno.” He was surprised how fast he got over his panic. He felt fine now. 

Michael let out a curt laugh, “Who fuckin’ knows, dude. I’m in the mood for something really goddamn unhealthy. Where do you want to go?”

“Man, you know me,” Jeremy laughed. “Catch me at McDonald’s with 10 chicken mcnuggets, bro.” His attempt to talk somewhat like Michael had come out awfully, and he sounded like a middle aged man trying to fit in with the cool kids by using the wrong slang. He hoped Michael wouldn’t be offended. 

Michael grinned, he was glad that Jeremy at least seemed to be feeling a little better. He put the car back in gear and turned them around, heading away from the school. “Hell yeah, dude. That's the good shit.” 

“I live off of the ten piece mcnugget meal, Michael,” Jeremy made his voice as serious as possible. “I would die without those nuggets.”

Michael laughed at the serious tone. “Damn, I know. Maybe one day you’ll graduate to a twenty piece like a big boy.” He teased him softly, happy that he was back to acting normal.

Jeremy hunched his shoulders in a pout that just looked pathetic coming from Michael. “I can’t eat twenty,” he grumbled. “Ten is already almost too many. With the fries and everything…” He trailed off before a sudden realization. “Now I _can_ eat the twenty piece! I’m you!”

Michaels eyebrows shot up in realization. “Oh shit. You're right! _I’m_ the skinny bitch now!” Michael laughed almost too loudly. “Fuck, dude.” Michael trailed off, shifting in his seat slightly. “Uh, Jeremy? We’ve been super chill about all this but, like, it just kinda hit me that we're in each other's _fucking_ bodies, and, like, what the _fuck?_ ” Michael's tone seemed to become gradually more concerned, reaching the point where it was cracking harshly.

Jeremy’s head snapped up from his position of looking down at his lap. “Dude,” he said, voice edging on worry and fear. “Shut the fuck up. I’m gonna- Do you want me to cry again?” 

“Well, fuck, I mean like- No, of course not, but, like, _what the fuck_? How the hell did this happen?” Michael was taking deep breaths to try and calm his own heart, which was suddenly beating out of his chest in worry. 

“You’re gonna give my body a heart attack, Michael!” Jeremy yelled. “Take a breath or something! Just- God,” he trailed off. Then, in a moment of pure and sudden realization, he spoke again. “Try to access it,” he said, serious. “Talk to the-“ he grimaced. “The SQUIP.” 

That suggestion, to say the least, did not help Michael's increasing state of panic. “What?” His voice cracked again. “Why? Do you think it could have- have done something like this? Is it _that_ powerful?” Michael was sweating again. A sharp spike of pain shot through his temple, making him flinch. “Fuck!" he yelped, bringing a hand to his head in a futile attempt to ease the pain. “Guess it can hear you, I think it just got a fucking boner, based off of this goddamn headache.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, pushing up his glasses once again. God, that was annoying. “I don’t know if it did this, but it’s the best guess I have!” He threw his arms up. “You don’t _have_ to, but unless you want this to be the new normal…” he trailed off, knowing Michael knew the stakes. 

Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he agreed, “but, let's just-- get some goddamn food first. I don’t want to start fucking around with fate and shit, y’know? Car crash is a lame ass way to die.”

Jeremy sighed. He hoped Michael knew he wasn’t okay with all of this. His panic had come and gone so quickly he felt like Michael may think he was over it already. “Fine,” he agreed. “But I’m getting the twenty piece this time.”


	2. (Please Do Not Fuck Keanu Reeves)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation.............

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow

Michael and Jeremy made a quick stop at the Mcdonald’s drive thru before heading to a small public park nearby. It had a playground for little kids and a long cement track for people who wanted to exercise or walk their dogs. Luckily, because it was, in fact, a school day, there were very few other people there. There were only two or three others in a grassy area, a couple sitting together under a tree, and some guy walking his Shibe. Jeremy had briefly stopped to voice his concern that they might get caught, but Michael quickly dismissed the idea. No one was going to bother to stop two nerdy teenage boys who were eating Chicken Mcnuggets in a park. The pair carried their food over to a bench under a large oak tree where they sat down to eat. 

Pushing his back against the tree, Jeremy took a whole chicken nugget in his mouth. He could live with a bigger mouth. He’d laughed when Michael had ordered himself just ten nuggets. Jeremy would enjoy all twenty of his, plus the large fries and soda. He was still somewhat anxious about getting caught, but Michael’s confidence had calmed him greatly. The thought, though, that Michael would have to talk to the SQUIP after they ate was still bugging him. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone. He looked down at Michael, who had his spindly legs contorted in a painful looking way. “You’re going to break my legs if you sit that way,” he complained. “Sit like a normal human being.”

Michael glanced up from his small pile of fries he had been eyeing. “Blame it on your weak ass twink legs. These things are like weird meat knives, it hurts to sit any other way because of your bones stabbing me!” Michael paused, a bitter grin on his face. “Meat knives is probably the most upsetting thing I’ve said to date. I’m sad now.”

“Deal with it,” Jeremy retaliated, popping another nugget into his mouth. “And I thought you said my twink body was the most desired kind.” He pouted. “I still don’t remember what that means, you know.” He took a long sip from his cup. “It’s not bad, is it?”

Michael inhaled quickly in excitement, which caused he to choke on the fry he had been eating. He started coughing harshly, quickly grabbing his drink to try and clear the scratchy feeling from his throat. Once he managed to calm down he turned to face Jeremy and smirked. “A twink is…. Well, a twink definitely isn’t _bad_. It’s like.. How do I say this, uh, it’s like when a guy looks really young? No, not young, that’s gross. It’s like, when a guy isn’t manly at all but in, like, the hottest possible way.” He looked contemplative. “Now that I think about it there’s like two types of twinks… The ones that act like bottoms and are bottoms, and the really fuckin’ wild ones who look like bottoms but are actually the craziest goddamn top you’ve ever seen.” Michael was very deep in thought.

Jeremy decided to ignore Michael’s indirect stab at his manhood. “You seem to have a lot of experience with these twinks, Mike,” he said, mouth full of french fries. “If you’re so knowledgeable, which one are you calling me? The bottom twink or the top twink?” Thinking he had caught Michael in his lies, Jeremy smirked. 

Michael looked down at his (Jeremy’s) body for a moment before looking back at Jeremy with an expression of certainty. “Definitely a top. I bet you would be into some kinky shit, Jerm.” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Which is great because,” he leaned in close so that he could whisper in Jeremy’s ear. “I’m a bottom. So you’re just my type.” He pulled back and winked at Jeremy, trying his best to keep a seductive smirk on his lips rather than breaking into the teasing grin he felt pulling at them. “Why do you think I’ve done so much _research_ on twinks?”

Jeremy was frozen in his position against the tree trunk. He knew, despite Michael’s dark skin tone, that this extreme blush was very visible. It would take more than Michael’s voice to keep Jeremy from squeaking. “You-“ he tried, then stopped. This was too much information. This was _too much information_. He never needed to know Michael’s goddamn sex preferences. He decided that playing calm was in his best interest. Composing himself, or, rather, pretending to, he spoke again. “I’m straight, though, so none of that matters.” He didn’t mean to be so upfront about his sexuality all the time, but this time he had to set the record straight, for his own sake. 

Michael’s playful mood was instantly dampened as Jeremy spoke, but he made sure his expression remained unchanged so that Jeremy wouldn’t be able to tell just what effect his words had on him. “Yeah, I know.” he paused to take a sip of his drink, eyes focusing on a blade of grass by his knee. He opened his mouth to continue, but was unable to get any words out before he was suddenly being pounced on by an excited shiba inu. The small dog jumped into his lap, panting rapidly and attacking Michael’s face with its tongue.

“Ah!” Michael yelped in surprise. He pushed the dog away from his face in an attempt to stop the barrage of licking on his face. “Where did-” His question was cut off as the guy that they had seen walking a dog earlier jogged towards them. 

“Hey, Sorry about that!” the man called. When he reached them he picked the shibe up out of Michael’s lap and placed it on the ground slightly out of reach of the boys and their food, keeping it restrained by its leash. “He must’ve smelled your food.” the man joked bashfully. He appeared to be not much older than them, perhaps 18 or 19. He was fairly attractive, and seemed to be very well built. Michael blushed and shook his head.

“It’s- Ah- No problem!” he stuttered, cursing Jeremy’s inability to function when nervous. The man smiled back, looking Michael up and down quickly before seeming to decide something. He lingered beside the two boys for a moment longer, looking unsure. 

“So, um… Come here often?” he tried awkwardly. Michael laughed loudly, causing the guy to blush and smile sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m not very good at- well-- flirting.”

Jeremy watched this whole encounter with a grimace on his face. Who did this guy think he was? His dog straight up attacked Michael, could have killed him. This guy just says sorry and suddenly Michael’s all over him? One look and he’s flirting with him? To top it all off, he’s flirting with him _in Jeremy’s body_? That rattled him, all right. 

“Excuse me,” he coughed for emphasis, “we’re in the middle of something here?” Being rude wasn’t his intention—well, a little bit—but it came out harshly. 

The man’s smile faltered, and so did Michael’s. 

“Oh,” the man replied, disappointment creeping onto his face. “I didn’t realize this was a date.” He tugged on his dog’s leash as it tried to jump on Michael again. 

“What?” Jeremy said. “This-“ He stopped. “Yeah,” he corrected himself. “So…” 

“Sorry, man,” the stranger directed toward Jeremy. He put his free hand on the back of his neck. “It doesn’t look like your boyfriend’s real happy with you.”

“What?!” Jeremy shrieked. He was already into this fabricated date he’d just created. 

“I mean,” the man let out a nervous laugh. “He did just flirt with me. And then...said he was flirting with me.”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy didn’t need to feign his offense; he really did feel cheated on, whether Michael was in his body or not. “That’s _my_ twink, thanks. He likes making me jealous.” He huffed. 

“Looks like he did a good job, then,” the stranger’s disappointment leeched back into his voice. Jeremy could see the moment the other man decided to say what he did next. “But if you ever want something new, here’s my card.” He winked at Michael and pulled a small white card out of his pocket, handing it to the boy. “Or if you want to see my dog again.” With that, he and his shibe continued down the path. 

Jeremy snapped his head towards Michael, and, in a burst of real jealousy, snatched the card from his hand. Squinting, he pushed up the glasses that had fallen out of place and began to read the card aloud. “‘Steven Goranski, junior architect’? What a pretentious—” he cut himself off and reread the name four separate times. “You flirted with a _Goranski_?”

Michael blinked. What the fuck just happened? “Uh, Well- First of all, How was I supposed to know he was a Goranski; secondly, what the hell was all of _that_ about?” Michael shoved two fries in his mouth as he pouted.

“I mean, I know it wasn’t _jealousy_ , Mr. ‘I’m Straight’, so what the fuck? It’s not because I’m you right now, is it? Because you know I would never do that. But, like, it would’ve been _nice_ to actually be able to have someone be interested in me for once. Shit like that never happens when I’m just chubby old _me_.” Michael sighed, trying not to sound too self loathing. He didn’t want Jeremy to know how much his extra weight really did affect his self image. 

“I mean, even if it is just because you’re cute… 's not like I was gonna go fuck him behind a tree or anything.”

Jeremy looked down at the grass. He hadn’t meant to hurt Michael. He needed an excuse. “I know you’d never do that, Mike,” he reassured. “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you—me. Like I’m some kind of snack. That’s weird, whether it’s a man or a woman.” He couldn’t even get started on Michael’s spiel about not having people interested in him. Months ago, his SQUIP, linked with Rich’s, had revealed that freshman year, Rich had harbored a huge crush on Michael. He wasn’t about to give away that secret, though. 

“And he’s a Goranski, so I did you a favor. He could be Rich’s brother, the one that was arrested last year for robbing a couple in a movie theatre.” Jeremy wasn’t quite sure that rumor was true, but a lot of things were that Jenna Rolan spread around the school. He was sure Michael thought it was true, anyway. 

Michael sighed, shrugging. “Yeah, whatever. I guess so, dude.” Me sipped at his drink again, the sad look still lingering in his eyes. “I guess it’s just because of the whole, y’know, _being gay_ thing. It’s not like I can just fawn over random guys like you can with girls. It’s hard to find other people in a town like this. I guess I’m just lonely or something.” Michael frowned, clearing his throat. “But, it’s nothing, Dude. You’re right, that guy could’ve been the zodiac killer for all we know, right?”

Jeremy instantly felt a pang of guilt. Was he always such an asshole? “I’m sorry, Michael, I just-“ No excuse could save him this time. “I’m sorry.” Really, though, how long had he been this much of a jerk? He hoped this was new, because he didn’t know what to do if he’d been this way for twelve years, forcing Michael to put up with it. 

Michael shook his head and gave Jeremy a small smile. “It’s fine, man, really. Who cares about romance and shit anyway? All I need is my player 2.” Michael didn’t want Jeremy to feel bad, he knew he hadn’t intended any harm. He was just protective, right? Although Michael wasn't quite sure that it had been entirely necessary to tell him that they were dating. After all, Jeremy had made it _explicitly_ clear that he was straight only moments before.

He met Jeremy's eyes, hoping that his expression didn’t betray concerned apprehension that he felt coiling low in his stomach. “As long as you’re here I’ll never be alone, right?” Michael tried his best to keep his tone light. He hated bringing up the stuff that happened with the SQUIP. Jeremy had apologized, and Michael knew that he really did feel genuinely bad about the things he did; but they had never really sat down and talked about things directly. Neither of the boys were very reliable when it came to confronting their emotions. 

“Michael,” Jeremy started, voice low and serious. “I’m not leaving you again. I _promise_ that. Cross my heart and hope to die.” That was true; he felt that if he did end up leaving Michael again, he might as well die. Life without him was the worst experience of his existence. Looking back on it physically hurt him, and it made him feel nauseated. But, Michael needed to hear this now. 

Michael’s breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected Jeremy to notice, usually he was denser than a brick when it came to this kind of stuff. Maybe it was just Jeremy’s body’s inability to physically hide his emotions. “I- I know, Jere. Of course I know. I believe you, I just--” Michael grimaced. When he thought back to that night’ all alone in that damned bathroom, he felt such intense fear that he felt like his entire body was filled with stinging ice. “Damn, you’re really fuckin’ emotional, huh? Shit.” He paused to clear his throat to try and avoid any voice cracks. “It’s fine. I’m totally fine. We don’t really have time to deal with all this emotional shit, right? We still need to--- _I_ still need to talk to-- it.” he finished lamely, not wanting to say the name of the corrupted device.

“I-I know,” Jeremy replied. “I’m sorry, but it’s our best chance at figuring this shit out. I’d do it if I could.” He looked down. “It looks like Keanu Reeves. Just- Just saying, in case you see it. You shouldn’t, but, still.” He couldn’t remember if Michael knew that or not. Reminding him wouldn’t hurt if he had. 

Michael nodded, setting aside his remaining scraps of food and taking a deep breath. He wasn’t quite sure he was ready to do this, but it’s now or never. He looks a Jeremy hesitantly, “So, how do I do this, then? Do I just like yell ‘keanu reeves’ three times and then he shows up suddenly, or…?”

“What? No,” Jeremy shook his head. “Just try to...think at it. Like, telepathy. Try to concentrate on it or something, I dunno. I never actually try to talk to it.” He shrugged. “Also, it shouldn’t be strong enough for this, but,” he cleared his throat, “be wary of electrical shocks.”

Michael hesitated. “Like… in X-men?” He asked in confusion.

“Don’t mention that to it. It gets angry.” Jeremy sighed. 

Michael was still confused, but nodded anyway. “Well… Here we go, I guess.” Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He tried to clear his mind of any thoughts, instead focusing in on the sharp stabbing sensation in the back of his skull. ‘Hey, is that you, bitch?’ He thought, directing the question to the pain. 

He paused, feeling unsure. 'Are you in there, you fucking floppy disk? If you would, like, make yourself known, that would be great. I have a few… questions for you.’ Michael felt slightly silly for yelling at nothing in his head.

A voice came from the dark place in the back of Michael’s mind. It felt odd. It sounded like a speaker that had gone over its volume limit and had glitched. The way it said “ **Jeremy** ” sent chills down Michael’s spine. 

Michael felt his eyes narrow involuntarily in spite. So this was the thing that had caused all of that shit to go down. 'Not quite, bitch. It’s Michael. Y’know, the best friend that you forced Jeremy to _abandon_.’ Michael almost growled as he spoke to it, suddenly becoming very aware that this was what had caused him and, more importantly, Jeremy so much pain.

“What is it saying?” Jeremy questioned, worried. “Did you get it to answer?” 

Michael was preoccupied. The SQUIP’s voice was loud. “ **Oh** ,” it replied, its tone amused. “ **Really, now**?” 

Michael grimaced outwardly. 'Yeah, looks like you have a new landlord. So can you cooperate before I evict your dumb ass?’ Michael had lots of things he would've liked to _discuss_ with the SQUIP, but he knew that he had to focus on the task at hand. 'You wouldn’t, by chance, have any kind of knowledge about how this happened, would you?’

“ **Michael** ,” it replied, the glitchiness returning to its acid-like voice. “ **I have been too weak to access such information**.”

Jeremy poked Michael on the arm. “Is it working? Mike? Hello?”

Michael sneers, reflexively shrugging Jeremy off of his arm with a rough movement. “Oh, bullshit. You have to know _something_.” Michael was so worked up he didn't notice that he had snapped out loud instead of just in his head.

Jeremy’s head snapped up to look at Michael. “It’s talking?” he asked, surprised. “What’s going on? Is it stronger? Can you see it?” He hoped Michael couldn’t see it. That was bad news. 

The SQUIP must have ignored Jeremy’s ranting, because it spoke over him. “ **In this state, I am weak. You have an adequate understanding of computers. You should understand. For more help** ,” he spat the word, if computers could spat, “ **ingest a can of regular green Mountain Dew. Or contact your SQUIP provider.** ”

Michael glared at nothing as he ground out his words. “As if! I’m not an idiot! You just want me to turn you back on, right? You know I have three cases of red at home? I could _wipe you out_.” Michael's didn't know if his threat was actually feasible or not, but he was too worked up to care. He hoped the SQUIP wouldn't think too much into it. “Just fucking spill it, you glorified microchip.”

Jeremy kept poking at Michael, who was now speaking aloud but still not bothering to answer him. Was that how he acted? God, that was shitty. 

“ **I can’t lie to you, Michael** ,” the SQUIP sighed. “ **I’m not programmed to deceive. The solution to your questions lies in the first step being to drink Mountain Dew. That is all I am able to tell you. Except, one thing**.” Can a computer sound smug? This one did. “ **I am significantly stronger than a mere 24 hours ago. If I could access Jeremy’s memories, it would prove beneficial to you both. That would also entail drinking the soda. I assure you, I am only programmed to help**.”

Michael took a deep breath. “And how are you going to be able to do that if he’s in _my_ body? In case you haven't noticed, the only memories here are from a first person Michael View.”

“ **I can’t see that at all, Michael** ,” the SQUIP replied plainly. “ **I can’t access the memories. Like I said.** ” There was another sighing sound. “ **This brain should still hold the past day’s worth of memories, and statistically speaking, the odds that you and Jeremy have the same memories of that day are very high. Is it correct to assume that you were together for most of those hours?** ” Its volume increased as if it was attempting to block out Jeremy’s voice further, as the boy had also gotten louder in his pleas for Michael to answer him. 

Michael grit his teeth in irritation. “Yes. We were. Because that's what _friends_ do. They hang out.” Michael felt a small pang in his chest as he bit out the word 'friends’, but he purposefully ignored it. “Look, even if I _did_ agree to this, what's stopping you from fucking with Jeremy’s body like last time?”

“ **That was due to a very difficult objective** ,” it answered. “ **It was necessary to get Christine to like Jeremy. That involved a lot of...alterations in the student body. This objective, however, should not include such drastic measures.** ” Again, it sounded smug. If Michael could see its face, it would probably be smirking. 

Michael felt very conflicted. On one hand, if he did this there's no way of knowing just what the SQUIP will do, but on the other hand they don't exactly have any other options. Michael sighed bitterly, crossing his arms in defeat. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“ **Pleasure doing business**.” With that, the pain subsided and the staticy noises disappeared. 

“—huh?” Jeremy was saying something. “What the hell’d you just agree to, Michael?” He sounded worried. If Michael had agreed to anything the SQUIP said, anything at all, it was already bad news. 

Michael turned the face Jeremy, frustration still simmering in his stomach. “Huh? Oh. Um. Well, can I just say, first of all; Fuck Keanu. Secondly, it told me--” Michael grimaced. “It said that the only way to figure out what's going on is- is to reactivate it.”

Jeremy’s face fell instantly. “No,” he said. “There has to be another way. Did you just ask it to help? If it was talking to you the way it looked like it was, then it can do what it needs to help without a damn reactivation.” He was desperate not to have that whole incident happen again. 

Michael’s shoulders slumped sadly. “No, I tried. There's no other way for it to find out what happened. Apparently it's not strong enough to access my memories or something.” He sighed heavily. “Trust me, I don't want this just as much as you. But we don’t really have a lot of options here.”

“There _has_ to be a better way.” Jeremy stood up, leaving two nuggets behind in their carton. “I’m not letting you go through that. He’ll- _it_ will destroy you. That’s not worth it. Is it?”

Michael frowned, shaking his head as he also got to his feet. “Jeremy, It’s the only way! If you can think of one other option, then I’ll gladly take it. Besides, I’m sure I can handle it. After all, you managed pretty well, right?” Michael cringed slightly as the words slipped past his lips; he hadn't really thought about what he was saying until it was done. “I mean, this time we know what to do, right? We can stop it at any time. So, it should be fine, yeah?”

“Unless it takes control of you! Did I forget to mention that it can do that?! I think you know about that!” Jeremy was almost in hysterics. He couldn’t believe Michael thought this was a good idea. “Why would you risk that?!”

“Because! What the fuck else can we do?! I know the risks, you think I don’t remember _everything_ that happened when the damn thing was on? I know it’s a shit idea! But, fuck, dude, it’s all we have! Besides, I trust you. I know that if _anything_ happens, you’ll be able to save me. Right?” Michael had started out almost yelling in frustration, but by the time he ended he was speaking in barely a whisper.

“Of course,” Jeremy’s voice lowered as well, softening, too. “I’ll always be here for you. That won’t happen again. But-” he closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. “You have to know that I don’t want your pity,” he spat the word, “when you find out what living with that thing at full power was like. The s-shocking and the, well, psychological _torture_ is all my fault. Don’t feel sorry for me.”

Michael was slightly taken aback; the thought of pity hadn't even crossed his mind. He felt his heart pang as Jeremy spoke and his throat suddenly felt tight. Why was Jeremy’s body so _damn_ emotional? “Of-” Michael paused and cleared his throat. “Of course, dude. I would never pity you. But I don't think that all of that other shit was your fault, how could it have been? You didn't choose the do it.”

“I chose to take the pill,” Jeremy replied. “That was enough. That makes it my fault. All of it. Not its fault, not your fault, not even Rich’s fault. It was still my choice. Just- just know that, okay? I’ve accepted that.” He moved like he was about to sit again, but didn’t. “Should we go? Guess I still couldn’t eat twenty nuggets.” He tried to joke, but he’d actually lost his appetite when the dog walker had burst into their conversation. He was still thinking about that, for some reason. He assumed it was just friendly jealousy. 

Michael hesitated, not quite sure if he wanted to drop the subject just yet, but eventually nodded, bending down to pick up their trash. “I guess not.” He muttered, not looking up. As he straightened up, he checked the time on his phone. “We still have an hour and half before we can go to my house, what should we do?” He paused, frowning. “Are we even still going to my house? Where are we gonna do this?”

“We need to get that godawful drink from somewhere. We should do it in a secluded place. If you don’t want to wait until your moms are gone, I don’t know where that would be.” Jeremy shrugged. He still was anything but comfortable with knowing Michael would be making the same mistake he had only months before. 

Michael nodded, tossing the trash into a metal garbage can beside the tree. “We can stop by 7/11 for the drink. I think we should just wait it out and do it at my place. Besides, that's where all the red is, right?” He spoke with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Maybe ‘till then we can go scope out some more Goranskis, yeah?” Michael laughed slightly.

Jeremy’s eyes narrowed and his eyebrows smashed together in the meanest face he could possibly make. “No,” he ordered. “No more Goranskis. Never again.” He ended his glare at Michael and began the walk back to the car.

Michael watched Jeremy walk away with wide eyes. What the hell? That had almost sounded like real jealousy. Michael wondered why he would've been that jealous over it. He eventually shrugged, following after the other boy quickly. Whatever the reason, he had better things to worry about.


	3. (please do not fuck japanese supercomputers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SQUIP is a bitch

Jeremy sat cross legged on Michael’s bed in his basement. The can of Mountain Dew was in the middle of the floor in front of Michael, who was also on the floor, leaning back against the bed. Jeremy thought he should warn him about what was about to happen.

“You know that stabbing pain you’re feeling?” He tapped Michael on the head from above. “It’ll get a hell of a lot worse when this thing reactivates. Just a warning.” He grabbed the bottle of Mountain Dew Red that they’d gotten out of Michael’s mini fridge and held it in front of the other boy. “Just in case,” he said. “Remember we have this if you need it.” He still felt awful for doing this to his best friend. He didn’t deserve this.

Michael grimaced, eyeing the can in front of him. He took a deep breath and nodded in reassurance. “Yeah, Thanks… Damn, this is terrifying, how did you do this when you _didn’t_ know what was going to happen?” 

“I thought it’d make me cool, Michael,” Jeremy said grumpily, rolling his eyes even though Michael couldn’t see him. “It was motive enough. You won’t die.” He hesitated before muttering, “I hope.”

Michael scoffed. “Very reassuring, thanks.” He turned around to cast a quick glance at the boy behind him before turning back to the can. He took another deep breath to steel himself, picking it up. “Well… Go big or go home, I guess.” Michael popped the tab open and brought it up to his lips, only hesitating for a second before taking a long sip. 

Michael paused, quickly handing the can to Jeremy so that he wouldn’t spill it if something happened. He held his breath in apprehension, waiting for whatever was going to happen. For a moment, there was nothing, causing Michael to turn around and look at Jeremy in confusion. “Do I need more or something? Nothing’s---” Michael’s question was suddenly cut off as he went rigid, an intense searing pain shooting down his spine. “Shit!” Michael gasped, face contorting in pain.

“Michael?!” Jeremy instinctively called out, not expecting an answer. He remembered what this was like for him. He wished it had happened in a place like this; quiet and secluded, instead of the middle of the mall in front of the girl he liked and her date. 

Suddenly, just as Jeremy had said, a slightly blue version of Keanu Reeves stood in the corner of the basement facing Michael. It popped its back, which sounded odd, and cracked its knuckles--as if it needed to. Then, the voice Michael had heard in the park returned, but smoother and stronger. 

“ **Let’s get to work** ,” it said, smirking.

Michael’s breath hitched, the searing sensation fading to a slightly more bearable level. He started at the figure before him, panting slightly. “W- Work?- Fuck!” Suddenly the pain returned, even more intense than the first time. His body tensed, the pain forcing him to the ground as the electricity racing through him caused him to seize harshly.

“Michael!” Jeremy cried. “Dude, what’s going on?” He didn’t know if his friend could hear him, but it was worth a try. “Is it working?”

The SQUIP sighed. “ **Apologies** ,” it said, “ **for the discomfort. It will subside soon. And please do try not to speak aloud. It makes you look like an idiot.** ”

Michael gasped through the pain, eyes wide. What the fuck does he care how it looks? He felt like he was being full on electrocuted, who gives a shit how dumb he looked. “F-Fuck you!” He stammered out as the tremors in his body began to subside. “J-Just, fuck, Just get on with it already!”

Michael could see Jeremy trying to get his attention, but the SQUIP took full priority. 

“ **I’m booting up completely, give me four minutes and** ,” it looked pensive, “ **fourteen seconds**.” With a nod, it disappeared.

“--doing?” Jeremy waved his hands in front of Michael’s face. “Are you okay?!”

Michael blinked, coming back to reality as the pain once again became merely a dull throbbing throughout his body. He was on his back on the cold cement floor, Jeremy hovering worriedly above him, face only inches away from his own. “I- It’s booting up, apparently.” Michael did his best not to stutter and he panted out the words, still breathing heavily from the overwhelming pain.

Jeremy backed away from Michael and sat on his heels. “I didn’t know it did that,” he stated plainly. “Did you see it? Is it Keanu for you, too? I think it’s different for everybody, but it should give you a few choices, or something.” He put his hand on the back of his neck, the surprise from feeling Michael’s soft hair instead of his own greasy tangles giving him a jolt. He put his hand back down as fast as he had put it there.

Michael closed his eyes tiredly, nodding. “Yeah, but it was only here for a minute before it fucked off again. Keanu is a bitch. I guess even super computers from Japan have to boot up, too.” He mutters. He shrugged slightly, feeling sore from the harsh seizing in his muscles.

Jeremy shrugged, too. “I guess,” he sighed. “Fuck Japanese supercomputers, man. Did it say how long it would take? I feel like if we wait too long, I’ll have to pee, and I don’t wanna see that.” He shook his head for emphasis.

Michael sighed, puffing out his cheeks. “Like, four minutes. Don’t know what the hell it’s doing but it shouldn’t be too long, apparently. You probably don’t have to worry about touching another dude’s dick. Your straightness is safe.”

“Good,” Jeremy said weakly. He hadn’t meant to insult Michael if he had, but it was a matter of privacy. “Soon this’ll be over and you can take your test or whatever you’re missing at school today, nerd.” He knew they were both nerds, but Michael always called him one when he was being especially nerdy. It just felt right, somehow, to call him one now.

The corner of Michael’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Yeah, too bad we didn’t go today. I could’ve had all the guys after your fine ass.” Michael hadn’t really thought about that statement because of how tired his mind was feeling. When he did realize what he had said, he just decided to roll with it. “You could’ve been the top bitch in school.” He laughed softly.

“Tried that, didn’t work,” Jeremy rolled his eyes again, this time so Michael could see. “Stop saying that about me. Plus, you already got a goddamn Goranski to give me his phone number. What else do you want?” He huffed a few angry breaths before thinking aloud. “He wasn’t all that ugly, though, was he?” 

Michael’s eyebrows shot up. What? “Uh, No? I mean, he wasn’t but, like, I didn’t think that was a very straight thing to notice.” He paused. “Also, why are you so hung up on that still?”

“I dunno, it was weird,” Jeremy shrugged. “He was weird. He had a card. That’s weird.” He wondered if he said that word too many times in the span of ten seconds. He probably had.

Michael was mildly confused as to why Jeremy was trying to divert the question so hard. “Whatever, dude. It doesn’t matter anymore. By the way, you tried to be the top bitch for the girls, _not_ the guys. I’m telling you, it would’ve been much more successful if you were into dicks.”

“Can you stop talking?” Jeremy put his hands in front of his eyes in mock offense. “You know, you might be successful if you liked girls, too. I overheard Brooke saying you were cute before the play last month.” He shrugged again. “Guess we’re both losers. But don’t say it’ll get better in college. You always say that. Just accept your loser status. I had to.” He didn’t know where this was coming from, but he didn’t know how to stop it, either. Maybe it needed to be said.

Michael looked over to where Jeremy was sitting, frowning slightly. “Yeah, I know. I accepted it in middle school. Why do you think I stopped trying?” Michael felt concern begin the curl in his gut. “I didn’t realize you--” He stopped as a glowing blue figure suddenly appeared beside him, causing him to turn quickly.

Standing next to Jeremy and him, there was, well, another Jeremy. His eyes glew a transparent blue, and his skin looked alien. It was-  
“ **Michael Mell,** ” it spoke, in Jeremy’s voice, “ **welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. Your SQUIP.** ” It looked him over, tilting its head. “ **Great,** ” it grumbled, “ **one of us is going to have to go home and change.** ” It disappeared for half of a second, reappearing behind the real Jeremy--in Michael’s body, of course. Instead of Jeremy’s striped shirt and signature cardigan, it wore what looked like a black leather jacket over a plain blue shirt. It sent serious ‘bad boy Jeremy’ vibes. 

“ **Would you like the pain to be eliminated, Michael?** ” it asked, walking around the real Jeremy and back to its original position in the corner of the room. “ **I can make it go away now, as I am in full strength. Thank you, by the way.** ”

Michael gaped in shock. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed, startling Jeremy. “Why do you look like hIm?!” Michael was too bewildered to care when his voice broke twice. “What happened to Keanu?”

Jeremy--the real one--gasped. “It changed?” he asked. “Who is it?”

Ignoring him in what Michael could guess was the SQUIP’s usual fashion, it spoke again. “ **Keanu Reeves was not sufficient for your tastes. Upon examination, I chose this form based on a list of people who you would most likely listen to.** ” It smiled. “ **It’s this or one of your mothers, Michael. And I think you’d rather hear this voice.** ” It glitched and appeared beside him again, a ghost hand on his shoulder, which Michael couldn’t feel. “ **I think we both know why that is,** ” it purred into his ear.

Jeremy was still watching in question. He wondered what was happening. He wasn’t used to being on the other side of this.

Michael felt like he was somehow blushing and flushing at the same time. His breathing was ragged, and he felt like could start sweating at any moment. Jeremy and his goddamn sweating. Michael glared pointedly at a spot on the floor, refusing to look up at the SQUIP. “I don’t know what the _fuck_ you’re talking about.” he ground out harshly.

Jeremy decided Michael would talk to him when he was ready. He sat back on the bed to endure however long this would take.

“ **Please, I told you, stop speaking out loud. You look like a complete fool.** ” The SQUIP rolled its eyes in a Jeremy-like way and proceeded to sit next to its likeness—though he currently looked like Michael—on the bed, the mattress unmoving under its nonweight. “ **And** ,” it faked a yawn, “ **you know what I’m talking about.** ”

Michael glared at it fiercely. “Fuck you! And I told you that I don’t. Give. a. _Shit_.” Michael hissed at it, growling low in his throat. “Just do what you said you would and fix this.” An edge of regret crept into Michael’s tone as he looked at Jeremy’s form; It was weird to talk so aggressively to his best friend’s face, even if he did know it wasn’t actually him.

“And don’t even _think_ about trying anything, got it?” He added, sneering at it pointedly.

“ **I don’t ‘think’, Michael. I compute. I am not programmed to…‘try anything’ as you put it.** ” The SQUIP’s eyes narrowed as if it were tired. “ **You want me to access the previous day’s memories, correct?** ” It kept its half-lidded eyes focused on Jeremy, as if it were thin— _computing_ something about the boy, its former host. 

Michael gritted his teeth in anger. “Yes.” He muttered, looking away. He didn’t feel comfortable acting like this when it still looked like Jeremy. It made him feel uneasy.

“ **It is not my intention to make you feel that way** ,” it said, as if it could read his mind. “ **I’m _in_ your mind, Michael, I can read it, in the sense you think of.** ” It took a computer breath. “ **You really aren’t going to stop talking out loud, are you?** ”

Michael felt like he had to do it purely out of spite at this point. “Nope.” He confirmed, crossing his arms. He hadn’t realized how… exposed his feeling and thoughts were going to be to the computer. He hadn’t really thought about what it had really _meant_ to have a super computer _inside_ his brain. 

“ **Great,** ” it muttered. It seemed human enough, but also as far from it as possible. “ **Accessing memories of the past 24 hours,** ” it announced, its glowing eyes seeming to gloss over as it watched something Michael couldn’t see. 

Jeremy, meanwhile, stared at the ceiling during the encounter. He’d tried making up the other half of the one sided conversation he was hearing, but the SQUIP was not as predictable as it could be. He decided to just relish in his time without a splitting headache, because who knew how long it would last?

Michael huffed as he waited for the SQUIP to do its thing. He pondered what it had said earlier about taking Jeremy’s form. He didn’t want to admit that he did know why that was who had chosen. He hated thinking about the reason why. 

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the SQUIP blinked. “ **I have your answer,** ” it shrugged, “ **if you’d like it.** ” 

“Yeah, that’s kind of why your bitch ass is here right now, remember? So spill.” He commanded tiredly, still not looking up from the spot on the floor that he was staring at.

“ **So rude**.” The image of Jeremy crossed its arms. “ **Fine, but only because I’m programmed to. My observations have come to a simple conclusion. Last night, you and Jeremy were taste testing various sodas, is this correct?** ” Its face said it knew it was correct, but it asked anyway. 

Michael quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah? And?” 

“ **You both took in approximately twenty milliliters each of a recently discontinued flavor of Mountain Dew—Mountain Dew Grape. Does this trigger any memories? It ceased production in 2010. It was purple. Do you remember this?** ” It spoke to Michael like he was a small child. 

Michael’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You mean that shitty flat one that tasted like cough medicine mixed with sparkling water? Yeah. I remember.” 

“ **That’s the prime suspect,** ” the SQUIP deduced. “ **Every flavor has a different effect on SQUIPs. Don’t ask why. It’s most likely why this happened to you both.** ” It paused. “ **Since I solved it, will you do me a favor and not speak out loud from now on? You still look foolish.** ”

Michael scoffed loudly. “Why the fuck would I ever do _you_ a favour? You ruined my life.” Michael paused. “Just tell me how to fix it. Then we won’t have to see each other ever again.” Michael had spoken out of bitterness, but he still felt mildly upset that once they were back to normal Jeremy was going to be stuck dealing with this thing again.

“ **I believe I can be of assistance. You’ll have to actually do as I say, however.** ” It gave him a pointed look. “ **Also, I am quite...in your vernacular...enjoying this. No other SQUIP has ever had more than one owner. This is quite the experience.** ” Its teeth shone through its wicked grin. It looked strange on Jeremy’s face. 

Michael sneered, glancinging at it in disdain. “Fine, Just tell me what to do so that we can go back to normal and shut you the _fuck_ back off.” He sighed heavily, ready for this to be over with.

“ **Hm.** ” The SQUIP put its chin in its hands, elbows on its knees. It was a position that Jeremy adopted often. “ **Oh, you’ll like this.** ” Its grin widened. 

“What? Just tell me. Stop trying to tease me like a bitch.” Michael grumbled. Once the SQUIP told him how to fix the problem, he intended to chug all the mountain dew red he physically could. He was not going to let Jeremy back into his body while this thing was still at full power. Fuck that.

“ **Sorry to foil your plans, but I need to be at full power for this to work.** ” The SQUIP lifted its head. “ **And like I said. You’ll really like this.** ”

Michael groaned. He didn’t want Jeremy to hear the argument that he was about to have, so he bitterly switched to speaking internally. ‘Then I’ll just make Jeremy drink it right after we’re fixed. There’s no reason for you to remain active once the problem is solved. So just get on with it.’

“ **Firstly, _thank you_ for thinking at me instead of talking to yourself. Secondly, I should add that this is a temporary fix. I am not able to access the information needed to know how long it will last. For some reason, it’s been...redacted.** ” The SQUIP looked confused, a very familiar expression on Jeremy’s face. 

Speaking of Jeremy, he was counting tiles on the concrete floor. His feet swung back and forth over the edge of Michael’s bed. He felt very impatient. 

Michael inhaled sharply. ‘ _What?_ he screeched internally. ‘Then why the _fuck_ would I agree to this? There’s no way in _hell_ I am letting you mess with him again.’ Michael felt dread gripping him tightly. ‘How do we figure out how to fix it permanently?’ 

“ **I am working on that. It requires me to access forbidden information. My creators have an advanced firewall blocking further knowledge on this topic. I am merely offering a temporary peace.** ” It sighed again. “ **I will not ‘mess with’ Jeremy. I told you, that is not required for this objective.** ”

On one hand, Michael would rather die than risk letting this thing back at Jeremy again, but on the other hand… he also knew that Jeremy really wanted them to switch back.. Michael grimaced, but eventually relented. ‘Fine, I’ll do whatever you say. But if you utter a _single fucking syllable_ to him, I will personally come back and drown you the _fuck_ out, got it?’

“ **Yes, sir,** ” the SQUIP replied coolly. “ **Kiss him.** ”

“ _What?!_ ” Michael yelped, startling the real Jeremy after the prolonged silence was suddenly shattered. “What the Fuck?!”

Jeremy squeaked. “What’s happening?!” He exclaimed. “Did it hurt you?!”

“ **Kiss Jeremy, Michael,** ” the SQUIP repeated. “ **The intimacy should provide enough energy to switch you both back for an indefinite period of time.** ”

Michael gulped, looking at Jeremy with wide eyes. He finally noticed the startled expression the other boy was sporting. “N-No it didn’t hurt me.” He paused, Jeremy’s words finally catching up with him. “It’s just-- it told me what to do. You’re not gonna like it.” Michael was sure his face was redder than his signature hoodie.

“Tell me,” Jeremy said, perking up. “It’s a solution! You gotta tell me! What did it say? And did you say it changed? Who does it look like now? Did you pick Sean Connery, or something? That was one of my options.” He realized he was beginning to ramble. “What did it tell you to do? What caused this?”

“It-- It said that we have to--” Michael decided to ignore Jeremy’s other questions, he didn’t need to know that the SQUIP had chosen to imitate him. “Kiss.” Michael mumbled the word like a child who had been caught breaking the rules. His face felt like it was on fire. Jeremy’s body blushed far too easily. Michael decided he preferred his own immunization to blushing.

Jeremy’s face fell in an odd way. He had to _kiss_ his best friend? That was- he didn’t know what to think. “A-are you sure it’s not just m-messing with us?” he stuttered, his glasses falling down his nose for the eighth time in an hour. 

Michael nodded, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah.” he whispered, dread clawing at his throat. “I know, kissing a dude, and _me_ of all people, is the last thing you want to do, but it’s all we can do for now. “ 

Jeremy gulped. “I-If it’ll fix this, then I-I’m game,” he managed. The confusing part is that he hadn’t felt immediate aversion to kissing Michael. He didn’t quite know what that meant. He did, however, have an extreme aversion to kissing himself, which was who Michael currently looked like. “It’ll fix this?”

Michael glanced at him quickly before looking away again. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. Was this really about to happen? “Yeah,” Michael paused, thinking about what the SQUIP had told him. He didn’t want Jeremy to know that the SQUIP was still there when he got back into his body, but the only way that he could convince him of that is by lying. Michael hated lying to Jeremy more than anything, but he felt like he had no other choice. He didn’t want Jeremy to suffer any more than he already had. “Yeah, It will.” He confirmed, meeting Jeremy’s eyes. “Just… close your eyes and imagine I’m someone you like, right? I’m just some hot girl. Then it’ll be fine.. Yeah?”

“I…” Jeremy gulped again. “I don’t want to pretend you’re a stranger, Michael.” Jeremy didn’t care for strangers. And imagining Christine would be too awkward. Something in the back of his mind told him he didn’t need to imagine anyone else. 

“ **You aren’t telling him it’s only temporary?** ” the SQUIP questioned, amused. “ **This should be interesting.** ”

Michael grimaced internally. ‘And you better not say a fucking word, either.’ Then he finally processed what Jeremy had just said. He felt like he might combust. He worried that Jeremy could hear his heart beating from that far away. “O-Oh.” Was all he could managed. He didn’t know what to say. What did that _mean_?

The SQUIP looked down at its fingernails, which were black. “ **Sounds to me like you just want to kiss him.** ”

Jeremy gave a small nod, his eyes—Michael’s eyes—sparkling up at where the other boy was standing. “Just do it,” he said, barely audible. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears, his heart beating at the pace of the Death Waltz. He didn’t need to imagine anyone else; Michael knew him the best, so it should be no problem to kiss him. No homo. 

Michael took a deep breath, moving closer to where Jeremy was seated. He tried to steel himself, this felt harder than drinking that mountain dew had felt. He met Jeremy’s eyes, moving in so that his face was mere inches away. He paused, hesitant. He didn’t know if he had the willpower to do this. Even if it was just a kiss. Michael was afraid that if he kissed Jeremy, he wouldn’t be able to settle with a mere peck on the lips. He was afraid. He could feel Jeremy’s soft puffs of breath on his face, his eyes were lidded heavily as he sat, waiting expectantly. Michael felt like his body was suddenly made out of stone, unable to move. Shit. 

“ **Oh, my god.** ” The SQUIP groaned. “ **Maybe taking control wouldn’t hurt. You’re never going to do it at this rate.** ”

Jeremy, as if he could hear the SQUIP’s voice, glanced down at Michael’s lips—his lips, which was still a major turn off. Instinct told him to put his hand on Michael’s neck. Before he could tell himself how wrong this was, his lips were touching Michael’s. His eyes closed, again on instinct. Suddenly, things felt different. One eye snapped open, his lips still connected to Michael’s, and he saw that he was now sitting on the other side of the bed. He was _himself_ again. 

Michael, on the other hand, was far too distracted to notice. His eyes still closed, lips on Jeremy’s. He tilted his head slightly for a better angle, mouth opening slightly and the kiss deepend. Holy fuck, he was _kissing_ Jeremy. And Jeremy was kissing him _back_! Holy shit! His hand came up to rest on Jeremy’s cheek, holding the other boy in place. His mind felt fuzzy and his heart was hammering against his rib cage. He couldn’t think, head spinning. He pulled back only slightly, face still close enough to Jeremy’s that their breaths were intermingling. He opened his eyes, meeting Jeremy’s bright blue ones. He didn’t even realize that it had worked.

Jeremy stared into Michael’s eyes. His mind raced with good thoughts and bad. He’d just kissed his best friend. He’d just _kissed_ Michael. That was something he couldn’t quite comprehend. In the heat of the moment, and the heat of his anxiousness, he stated the obvious. “H-hey,” he said awkwardly, glad his voice was his own. “We’re all better..!” He laughed nervously. His eyes glanced momentarily to a spot in the room over Michael’s shoulder. His heart sunk. A glittering Keanu Reeves was leaning on the wall behind Michael’s bed. 

“ **Welcome back, Jeremy.** ” It smirked as it broke its promise.


	4. (Please Do Not Fuck The Meat Circus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get hEaTeD but not in the fun way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thesaltydragon here with a lot of pain and regret  
> writing the squip is fun but it's taking a toll on my personality lmao

In the short hours, Jeremy had missed not having to wear glasses. He had missed his hair falling on his forehead. He had missed the way his clothes felt on his body. He had missed his voice, no matter how prepubescent it sounded. Jeremy did not miss Keanu Reeves. 

He sat there, inches away from his best friend, whom he had _just kissed_ , but his blood ran cold as the SQUIP smirked at him from the opposite side of the room, now, terrifyingly, at full power. 

“ **If you’re just going to stare, this is going to get very awkward** ,” it purred. 

Jeremy ignored whatever he felt Michael doing and thought directly to the computer. He wasn’t angry, not yet, just confused for now. ‘Michael said you changed forms.’

“ **And I changed back. Having multiple hosts is exhausting, Jeremy. You aren’t the only ones switching bodies.** ” 

‘Whatever,’ Jeremy thought, anger finally seeping through with every telepathic syllable. ‘I’m about to down this bottle of Red,’ he explained, ‘and we won’t need you anymore.’ He was still ignoring whatever Michael had taken to doing. He imagined he must have looked like a crazy person, frozen on one spot and glaring at the wall. 

“ **Ah,** ” the SQUIP walked closer. “ **Perhaps you should ask your friend about that. He may not want to get rid of me this quickly.** ” 

“Yeah, right, fucker,” Jeremy spat out loud. “Say sayonara to your existence.” He grabbed the bottle from where it was on the bed. 

Michael had finally snapped out of his hazy state when Jeremy had yelled and moved to grab the bottle of red from where it had been discarded beside them. His eyes widened and he felt his blood run cold. That could only mean one thing. The goddamn SQUIP had _lied_ to him.

“Fucking-- God _Damnit_ ” Michael lunged forward, grabbing Jeremy and forcing both of them to fall back onto the bed. Michael pinned Jeremy’s arms above his head as he hovered over him. “Fuck!” Michael felt furious.

He couldn't believe that the fucking SQUIP had _lied_. When he got back, he was going to _Fuck that SQUIP up_. Michael was so busy seething to himself that he almost forgot that he had just pinned his best friend down on his bed. Right after they had just kissed. Fuck. And he had lied because he figured Jeremy wouldn't have had to deal with the damn SQUIP. Double fuck.

Jeremy’s eyes were ready to bug out of his skull. He stared up at Michael, who’d just attacked him for no reason. In any other circumstance, Michael would probably call this kinky or some shit that Jeremy would blush at. He didn’t understand, why was he trying to stop him from deactivating the SQUIP again? 

“ **Because,** ” Keanu appeared over Michael’s shoulder, “ **He’s withholding information from you. Michael knows something you don’t. This is all very amusing.** ”

Jeremy spat at the figure behind Michael. Still speaking aloud, he almost growled at it. “This isn’t _amusing_ , you douchebag, what the fuck is going on?!”

Michael felt his body start to shake; both in anger and guilt. Shit, Jeremy was mad at him. Of course he was, why wouldn't he be? “Shit, shit- Fuck, Jeremy- I’m sorry! I know, I should've just told you, b-but I--” Michael paused, breathing heavily. How the hell could he explain this without Jeremy hating him? 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Jeremy grumbled from under Michael. “This fucking tic tac thinks this is funny. Let me go, I need to drink this entire bottle.” He squirmed, trying to get Michael’s weight off of him. 

Michael frowned, remaining firm. “You can’t.” He mumbled bitterly. “I’m sorry, but you can't. Not yet.”

“ _What_?!” Jeremy’s struggling stopped momentarily. “What the hell are you on about? Why the fuck not?!” He stared into the SQUIP’s eyes, watching as it smirked in an almost apologetic way. 

“ **You’re not done with me, yet, Jeremy** ,” it said. Jeremy shivered at its voice. He definitely hadn’t missed how smooth and silk it sounded. 

“B-Because!’ he started, grimacing. “It’s not-- it's not permanent!” He forced out, not meeting Jeremy’s eyes. “I- I didn't want to tell you because--” he stopped again. Why was this so damn difficult to say?

Jeremy tried to sit up, but was still held down by Michael. “What?!” he squeaked. “You knew this wouldn’t last and you still did it? Why?!” It sounded like Michael had only done it to kiss him.

“ **Very likely,** ” the SQUIP agreed, hearing Jeremy’s thoughts. 

Michael blushed and turned his head away in shame. “Because! You seemed so desperate to switch back, I just- I figured that you could feel normal, at least for a little while, until we found out how to fix this permanently. I didn't want you to be constantly worried about it! And the _fucking_ SQUIP told me that---” Michael gritted his teeth angrily. 

“What? What did it tell you?” Jeremy demanded, still looking at the SQUIP in anger. “You didn’t make a deal with it, did you? That’s a huge mistake.” He narrowed his eyes into a deeper glare at the supercomputer. 

Michael was caught slightly off guard by Jeremy’s question. Did he really think he would do that? “What? No- Of course not! It told me that it wasn't going to _fucking_ bother you! I warned that damn thing, I swear to God-”

Jeremy looked from the SQUIP to Michael, eyes softening, then back to the SQUIP, glare returning. “It lied to you?” he said in disbelief. “I thought computers were incapable of lying!” The last statement was directed at the glowing figure still hovering behind Michael.

“ **Although the objective is the same for the both of you, you require different stimuli,** ” it shrugged. “ **Talking to you advances the, uh, plot.** ”

“Plot?” Jeremy glanced back toward Michael. “It just said our lives are a plot.”

Michael growled angrily. “I hate that damn thing more than I’ve ever hated anything. Even the fucking Meat Circus level in Psychonauts. Fuck the Meat Circus.” Michael paused, looking back at Jeremy who was still pinned underneath him. “Kiss me.” He commanded, eyes fierce. 

Jeremy’s face flushed instantly. His voice cracked. “What?” he managed, eyes now fixed on Michael’s. “What?” he repeated, as it was all he could seem to say. Again? What was this doing for them? It wouldn’t help anything! Not that he didn’t enjoy the first time, but- Those thoughts were quickly shaken from his mind. Must be residual effects from being Michael.

Michael remained firm, moving slightly closer to Jeremy. “Look, We know it works, right? We can switch at any time. But I am _not_ about to let you deal with this fucking thing again. _Not again_. Especially when it’s _my fucking fault_ that we’re in this mess to begin with. So just pretend I’m Christine and _fucking_ kiss me.”

Jeremy stalled. “You-” he couldn’t think of anything to say, and the SQUIP’s suggestions were definitely not appropriate. He found himself talking without having meaning to. “I don’t need to pretend you’re anyone else.” Jeremy really had no clue where these thoughts had been coming from. Maybe Michael hadn’t heard him.

Michael had definitely heard him. “What?” he asked, impatience hindered by shock.

“I guess you heard me,” Jeremy sighed. “I’m not saying it again. I can’t really stop you from kissing me right now anyway, I’m on the verge of either crying or screaming, and I think you really want to punch a virtual man, so just do it.”

“Jeremy,” Michael started,heart pounding in his chest. “You realize that it sounds like you’re saying that you are okay with kissing me; a boy. Michael. Your gay friend.” He couldn’t be hearing this right. Jeremy was straight. This isn’t something straight men were okay with.

“The longer you wait, the more I’ll have to pee when we’re switched again,” Jeremy deflected. He couldn’t explain those feelings, not now. Not even to himself.

“ **This is agonizing.** ” The SQUIP had moved from its place behind Michael to leaning on the wall yet again. “ **Just kiss him already.** ”

“Fuck it.” Michael leaned in, crashing their lips together again. He kissed him aggressively, pouring his frustration into the action. 

“Michael? --Jeremy?!” The two boys suddenly pulled apart, startled by the sudden intrusion. Both of them quickly turned to look at the figure standing at the foot of the stairs that lead to Michael’s room.

“Mom?!” Michael screeched. In Jeremy’s body. Shit. This was not good.

“ **I saw this coming,** ” the SQUIP said from its place on the wall, now back in its bad boy Jeremy form. 

Jeremy didn’t realize things had changed. He turned to Michael, angry, but not at him. “You said they were at work!” he yelled. 

“ **Michael, you do know she thinks you two were having sex, don’t you?** ” The glowing Jeremy cocked its head to one side, amused as ever.

Michael was overwhelmed. “Je-- Michael! Shut up!” He chose to ignore the SQUIP. He could deal with that later. “Just- Get off!” he struggled to push the other boy off of him. Jeremy’s body was annoyingly weak.

Jeremy let go of Michael’s wrists. He pushed himself to his side and off of the other boy completely. Shit. He was Michael. In Michael’s house. With Michael’s mom. While they were skipping school. 

“H-Hey, mom…” Jeremy tried and failed to act natural. Michael was a hard personality to capture, even for a theatre kid. 

Michael panicked. That’s the only way explanation he had for what he did next. He sat up, looking from his mother back to Jeremy. He gave Jeremy an apologetic look before quickly grabbing him by the shoulders and smashing their lips together for the third time. He pulled away quickly this time, whipping around to face his bewildered mother. “M-Mom, Look, I can explain!” He hoped he could, anyway.

Jeremy was shocked to say the least, but probably not as surprised as Mrs. Mell looked standing in the doorway. How the hell was Michael going to get out of this?

“Michael Ernest Mell,” his mother started, her mom voice on high, “you’d better have an exceptional explanation for why you’re- you’re _making out_ with Jeremy here instead of being at school. I know you have a test today. What is going on?”

Michael gulped, getting to his feet quickly. “Uh- Well, You see--” he said the first thing that came to mind. “I- I had a panic attack!” he paused. Too late to turn back now. “O-On the way to school! A-and I didn’t want everyone to see me crying and stuff, so I suggested we just sk-skip! Jeremy didn’t want to do it, it was all me!” He took a deep breath, hoping his lie was believable enough.

His mother’s expression softened as she started walking toward them. “Honey, why didn’t you call us? We could have just checked you out, or written a note, or something! Are you okay? Do you know what caused it?”

Jeremy sat back to let Michael do all the talking. He always screwed up their excuses. Everything goes well until he opens his mouth.

Michael shifted anxiously and looked down at his feet. “I’m fine, I dunno, Just got stressed, I guess. I didn’t want to bother you guys, I know how you always try to take sick days when I’m not feeling well. I just-” He shrugged, guilt pooling in his stomach. “I just figured it would be easier to just not show up.”

His mother smiled sadly. “Maria and I are always glad to take a day off for you, Mike. We’ll talk to your therapist tonight. Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little sweaty.” 

Michael blushed. Jeremy and his damn sweating! He nodded vigorously. “I’m fine. Promise. J-Just tired… I’m sorry I didn’t call.” Michael desperately hoped that she had forgotten about the kisses she had witnessed.

“I assume your father knows about this, Jeremy?” she asked after smiling again at her son in forgiveness.

“Yes!” he said a little too quickly, the SQUIP he’d forgotten about sighing in the distance. “Yes, he knows. He’s- he’s fine with it, Mrs. Mell.” 

“Fine. I came back for some paperwork. I’ll be off now, but, Michael, honey, you know you can call us if you need anything at all, okay?” His mother stopped in the doorframe again. “And I did just see you two kiss, didn’t I? That’s what that was?”

Michael’s eyes widened. “Uh! That was-” He didn’t know what to say that could explain that.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jeremy replied for Michael. “Your eyes didn’t deceive you.” He figured going along with it was the only way to get out of this one, though he also felt like he’d just ruined everything as per usual. 

“It’s about time,” the woman smiled one last crooked grin and went back upstairs, closing the door to the basement.

“Mom!” Michael yelped in embarrassment. He buried his burning face in his hands, sighing heavily. “Oh my God.” he muttered, shaking his head.

“ **Good job, Jeremy,** ” the SQUIP spoke up. “ **Really, that was superb. I couldn’t have handled it _much_ better than that.** ”

“Will you fuck off?” Jeremy called out to it, but it had already disappeared before he could really yell at it.

Michael sighed again, turning back to Jeremy. “Well, that was absolutely mortifying.” He wandered back over to the other boy, sitting down next to him. “Damn.” 

“I’m sorry, Michael,” Jeremy whispered. “I thought it was our best option. And hey! She left! We’re not in trouble!” He thought for a moment. “If the only reason this isn’t permanent is because we can switch by kissing, here’s a thought. Don’t kiss me ever again.”

“ **Jeremy, you never listen.** ” The SQUIP reappeared again in the middle of the room. “ **This won’t last. Michael should have explained better. This was not my fault.** ”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy grumbled. “Fuck _off_ , you glorified microfiche.” 

Michael felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. “Damn, was kissing me really that bad?” he muttered mostly to himself, chest aching. “Sorry..” He muttered, unable to form much more of a thought. This was way too much for one day. He couldn’t handle this many feelings in such a short period of time.

“No,” Jeremy waved his hand in dismissal. “It was wonderful, I’m just saying- But now the damn Keanu Reeves imitator is telling me that won’t even work, so there’s no point. Nevermind. Didn’t you want to beat this guy up in the Matrix or something?” He didn’t want Michael to deal with the SQUIP again, but he was getting anxious with it being present.

Wonderful? Did he just say that it was- “Jesus, Dude. If you keep saying shit like that I’m going to end up--” He stopped. Now wasn’t the time. “Uh- ah, yeah. Sorry.” Michael leaned over and planted a quick peck on Jeremy’s lips. 

Immediately pushing the glasses up once again, Jeremy sighed. This was getting really awkward. Or, more awkward. It had been pretty awkward already when they’d woken up that morning. “Tell it I said fuck off again, just in case it didn’t hear me.”

“ **Rude,** ” bad boy Jeremy crossed its arms. “ **I heard him all three times, thanks.** ”

Michael huffed, casting a tired glare at the glowing figure. “You know what, I’ll beat this thing’s ass later. I’m fucking exhausted.” the events of the day had begun really taking their toll on Michael, he could barely keep his eyes open. “I need a goddamn nap.” Michael flopped down on the bed, wrapping an arm around Jeremy’s waist. This wasn’t unusual for them; Michael had always been the cuddling type. He pulled the discarded blankets up over their bodies, huffing slightly. “Fuck that computer.”

Jeremy gasped slightly at the touch and stayed rigid under the blankets. “You’re really going to sleep, Michael?” he asked, disappointment in his voice. “Now? We need to end this. You can’t just go to sleep and wake up fine.” Seeing his own body laying in bed was a weird sensation. It felt illegal, like peeled lemons look. 

Michael sighed, tightening his grip around Jeremy. “Look, Dude. I know that this is fucking weird as hell. But I am so damn tired. A nap isn’t going to hurt us. ‘S not like anyone is going to come in or anything. My moms probably think we’re fuckng.” He mumbled tiredly, shifting his pillows so that he laid more comfortably.

“Great,” Jeremy muttered. He figured there was no way Michael was going to stay awake now that he’d gotten comfortable. His only option was take a nap, too, since his friend’s arm was preventing him from leaving his position. “Hope the SQUIP doesn’t fuck with you in your dreams,” he said before pulling the top blanket over his face to block out the light coming from the vent.

Michael smiled sleepily, eyes closed. “Sleep tight, bitch.” was the last thing he muttered before drifting off.

———————-

Michael was awoken by Jeremy’s voice, though it wasn’t the real Jeremy.

“ **Michael** ,” the SQUIP said in an attempt to hurry the boy’s process of waking up. “ **Your slumber has provided me with ample energy to break through the firewall blocking the information needed to fix your problem permanently.** ” It smiled, proud of itself. 

Jeremy still lay asleep, completely covered by the top blanket in the same position he’d been in when he first had drifted. His glasses were pushed crudely to the side of his face, though Michael couldn’t see that. 

Michael’s eyes shot open. ‘What?’ He questioned, still trying to shake the lingering grips of sleep from himself. ‘What the fuck? Are you serious?’

“ **Yes,** ” the glowing Jeremy confirmed, hands on its hips in pride. “ **You won’t like the answer.** ”

Michael sat up, rubbing his eyes. His sudden action had caused the blankets to fall away from Jeremy’s face. Michael glanced at him, smiling softly. “Dumb ass.” he mumbled, plucking the glasses off of-- his own-- face and folding them up in his lap. He turned to the SQUIP, which was standing beside the bed. ‘Well? What is it?’ He asked, eyes narrowing.

“ **It’s actually quite simple. Elementary, really. I seem to be slower than my memory banks remember. I have found a pattern in these things. I’m surprised others haven’t already deciphered this as well.** ” It no longer looked prideful, but disappointed in itself. “ **You’ll think it’s...stupid, once I tell you.** ”

“Oh my god.” Michael mutters impatiently. “Just get on with it already!”

The SQUIP frowned further. “ **Fine. The good news is that I’ve found the exact solution. The Mountain Dew you ingested with Jeremy was the Grape flavor. It’s purple. The reverse of the effects it has is contained in a yellow flavor. It’s simple art knowledge, really. Complimentary colors reverse each other, such as red and green, as you’ve seen.** ” The last clause of its sentence was said with anger. “ **The bad news…** ” it trailed off.

Michael glared at it suspiciously. “Yes?” he coaxed, crossing his arms.

Jeremy stirred from his place on the bed beside Michael. The sounds of his own voice talking to himself convinced him it was a dream as he stayed halfway in between consciousness. 

“ **The bad news is that this particular flavor was a test subject in 2009, and it never even got a name before it was discontinued. It lost the DEWmocracy competition for Dew flavors that year and never saw a store outside of Miami, Florida. It’s known as Flavor #286, and there’s little information about it except its color and pineapple flavor.** ” The SQUIP nodded to itself. “ **This one’s a little harder to come by than Mountain Dew Red. And by that, I mean a lot.** ”

Michael sneered. “What the fuck? Then what are we supposed to do?” He paused, memories from earlier finally coming back to him. “Oh yeah, and I have a few _choice words_ for you regarding what happened earlier.” Michael was trying his best to keep his voice down, but was having little success.

Jeremy made a few sleepy noises, but remained mostly in dreamland for the time being.

“ **I’ll tell you what I told Jeremy,** ” the computer stated, sounding irritated. “ **Changing hosts every two minutes confuses my programming. I spoke to him to advance the plot.** ”

 _Plot?_ What the Fuck did it mean, plot? “Do you think this is a game?” He seethed, turning to face the SQUIP completely. “You _fucking lied_ to me. I warned you what i would do, and you did it anyway. So _thanks_ for your _fucking_ help, but now that I know what I need, I’m about to drown you the _fuck_ out. You won’t be doing anything else any time soon.” Michael rose from the bed, striding over to his closet where his spare cases of Red were stowed away for emergencies.

The SQUIP spoke urgently. “ **You require my help locating a sample of this soda!** ” it said quickly. “ **I can access any computer in the world. You’d be throwing away a lot of help if you do this, Michael.** ” It paused. “ **I can also help Jeremy ask you out, if you wanted.** ” The last words sounded truly desperate. They didn’t even sound like the cold supercomputer anymore, just someone who wanted to stay at a friend’s house for five more minutes.

Michael hesitated slightly, hand on the closet door. “And why the _hell_ should I trust you? You already lied to me once. Who’s to say you aren’t lying again?” Michael gritted his teeth in frustration.

“ **I didn’t _lie_ to you before. I told you, my programming is confused. Plus, Jeremy’s objective required me to attempt to make amends with him. You still aren’t getting this, are you? He likes you. He just doesn’t understand it, yet. That’s what I can help with if you just let me stay.** ” The SQUIP was right behind Michael, eye level with him, since Jeremy was its likeness. It’d adopted the pouty face that Jeremy used only when he desperately wanted something.

Michael felt his breathing hitch, his heart stuttered. “I- I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He stuttered, looking away. “Jeremy is straight. And even if he wasn’t--” Michael cut off as he heard shifting from the bed, drawing his attention. Shit, he had forgotten Jeremy was right there. 

Jeremy had sat up, a hand on his head to ease the vertigo. “Michael?” he said sleepily. “What are you doing?”

“ **He,** ” the SQUIP pointed to Jeremy, “ **is definitely not straight. I can assist you both if you let me continue my job here. As you might have noticed,** ” its face turned embarrassed, “ **I have a few glitches. It’s not like I was _programmed_ to fear deactivation. Or to fear at all.** ” 

Michael closed his eyes, bringing his hands up to his face in distress. “Fuck!” he swore, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if he should-- “Jesus, Why is this so fucked up?” He mumbled, falling to his knees.

Jeremy raised his voice. “Michael, really, what’s going on over there?”

“ **This can still end, you know,** ” the SQUIP reassured. “ **Jeremy still has the choice of deactivating me as well, once you’re both good and permanently switched back. I just believe it is in both of your good interests to keep me active. I can find the soda and possibly even get you express shipping, if I’m feeling generous.** ”

“Fuck. _Off._ ” Michael commanded, looking up at Jeremy. “Jeremy-” He started, throat closing up. “I- I-” His body was shaking, tears suddenly welling in his eyes. “W- what the F-Fuck?” He asked shakily, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes. 

Jeremy’s eyes filled with worry and concern. “Micah, what happened?” he questioned. “Did it hurt you? I swear to fucking god, if it hurt you, I’ll find a way for us to hurt it worse.” He got up and started walking toward his best friend. “Tell me what it did to you.”

Michael shook his head violently, desperately trying to will the tears away. “N-No, I-” he sniffled, looking up at the other boy. “I’m fine, It’s just--- Fuck! I’m sorry, Jeremy. I’m so _fucking_ sorry.. I- I c- can’t do it. I-” Michael was on the verge of breaking down entirely, his body wracked with distress. He was so damn weak! All the SQUIP had to do was say that it could make Jeremy like him back and now-- Fuck! He was _so fucking weak_.

“ **I didn’t say I could make him like you back, Michael,** ” the SQUIP answered his thoughts. “ **I said he already likes you. He doesn’t know it yet. I can help.** ” It smirked, this time, a nice seeming smile accompanied by soft eyes. 

Jeremy was hunched over Michael. “You don’t look fine! What can’t you do? I swear, I’ll have to kiss you again and fucking ask that computer if you don’t tell me yourself. I really don’t want to talk to it right now.”

By now the tears were streaming freely down Michael’s face. “I-” He scrubbed at his eyes, trying to clear his tear blurred vision as he looked up at Jeremy. “I just.. I- It said that it--” Michael’s voice was shaky and weak. “I- It fucking looks like you. And it- it keeps t-telling me t-that--” Michael cut off, taking a shaky breath.

Jeremy was caught up in Michael’s revelation. “It looks like me?” he repeated. “Like, wimpy white stick, me?” Why would it change its form from one of the options it gave Jeremy to one completely different? More importantly, why was it _him_?

Michael nodded, a small sob escaping him. “O-Of _course_ it fucking looks like _you_!” he exclaimed, burying his face in his hands. “W- Who else would b--be able to fuck me up this much?”

Jeremy didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think he could do this to Michael, if he were a SQUIP or not. What was he talking about? “Look, I don’t think I- I don’t think I understand.” He took his hand away from where he had it ghosting over Michael’s shoulder. “Why does that make a difference?”

“ **If you tell him now, it will be statistically harder for me to help move this relationship to the romantic spectrum later.** ” Speak of the devil. “ **Don’t tell him the truth. It’ll be too much for one day.** ” The glowing boy crossed its arms again, waiting for Michael to make the right decision.

Michael groaned loudly. “Well th-then what the _fuck_ am I supposed to say?!” He exclaimed, overwhelmed by emotion. “How the fuck am I supposed to--” He stopped, breathing heavily. “What the fuck do you _want_ from me? Why are you _doing_ this?”

“ **It’s my job,** ” it said simply.

“You know I can hear you talking to it, right?” Jeremy said, a little angry that the computer they both hated was taking priority over him.

Michael sighed, his tears slowing. “Yeah, Of course I know.” He muttered, unsure what to do now. This was too much. He couldn’t possibly listen to this stupid thing, right? He should just deactivate it, he could find the rare drink himself; it’s not like he hasn’t done it before. But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt like an idiot. 

“What’s going on, Michael?” Jeremy asked, slower this time. “If it shocked you or something-- If it’s forcing you to do something, just get rid of it.”

“ **He wouldn’t be saying that if he knew the stakes.** ” The SQUIP’s form seemed a little larger than it had been. “ **You know what the decision needs to be, Michael. Make the right one.** ”

Michael looked up at Jeremy, finally meeting his eyes. “I can’t.” he stated simply, eyes filled with despair. “We still need it.”


	5. (please do not fuck your emotions)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is distressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo whaddup I'm UnfortunatelySux and I just wanted to say that I love writing Michael but god bless him,,, hes a mess

Jeremy looked at Michael in confusion. “I know we still need it,” he said. “It’s gotta help us fix this, right?” He put his arm back on Michael’s back in reassurance. It felt weird to reassure himself. He really was bony as hell. “So there’s nothing to worry about!” 

Michael nodded hesitantly. He didn’t know what to say. Michael was, generally, a very emotionally collected person. He rarely got upset over things, it took a lot for him to ever become angered by something. He didn’t like those kinds of emotions; anger, sadness, longing, he didn’t feel like they were worth the effort. That is why being in Jeremy’s body was such a massive emotional shock to him. Jeremy seemed to feel intensely, about so many things. Jeremy was, emotionally, the opposite of Michael. 

This is why he mostly felt frustrated at himself as he sat sobbing on his bedroom floor. “Why do you cry so damn easily, anyway?” he asked Jeremy, sniffling miserably. “Like, what the hell?” He was mostly talking out of anxiety, he wasn’t sure how to explain his sudden actions and emotional distress without just spilling everything to the other boy. And Michael _sure as hell_ couldn’t do that. Especially not now. He felt nauseous as he realized just what he had done. He had, in essence, made a deal with the SQUIP. The same SQUIP that had made Jeremy abandon him. Michael felt an overwhelmingly strong spike of guilt shoot through his body. Fuck Emotions.

Jeremy let out a nervous laugh. “It’s all the anxiety, man,” he reasoned. “It sucks, doesn’t it? And this is me _on_ medicine. Just wait until it wears off. Oh, jeez,” Jeremy sighed. “You’re gonna hate it. My pills are at home.” 

“ **Michael,** ” the SQUIP piped up, “ **I commend you for making the correct choice. I look forward to helping you and Jeremy in the future. I am, of course, holding up my end of the bargain.** ” It put one hand on its hip. “ **I’m scouring the web for a location to acquire this Mountain Dew. You should be proud of me.** ”

‘ _Fuck you._ ’ Michael thought at the SQUIP pointedly. He didn’t need it’s dumb commentary. Especially right now. Michael took a deep breath, attempting to gather himself. He wiped the remaining tears on the back of his hand and clumsily got to his feet. “Speaking of _home_ , we need to figure out how this,” He paused and gestured between them. “Is going to work.”

As the SQUIP disappeared in a huff, Jeremy stood up with Michael. “What do you mean? How long do you think this is going to last, Mike? Isn’t the SQUIP working on it? It shouldn’t be long enough to need to figure anything out. Just tell it to work its stupid magic and fix us.” Jeremy was becoming impatient, which was unlike him. Michael had always been the more impatient one, whether it was waiting on food at a restaurant or watching the minute hand of a clock tick by before the final bell at school. Jeremy supposed this was just his irritation with the situation causing the attitude change. 

Michael sighed, “Well, I mean, yeah, but like- We don’t know how long it _is_ going to take. It could be a couple days until we’re be fixed for good, for all we know.” Michael paused, wandering over to their two bean bags that he had sat next to his TV and plopping down on one with a huff. “So, just in case, I think we should sort out some kind of game plan or something. We don’t want to have any situations like..” Michael looked away as a soft blush rose to his face. “ _earlier_.”

Jeremy stood perplexed, trying to think of any sort of plan. “Michael, your mom thinks we’re dating. That’s not going away anytime soon. We might as well keep going with that lie.” He stopped. “But that won’t help us act normal at school. We can’t skip again. Should we-“ he hesitated. “Should we tell the others about this?”

Michael cursed silently as his face heated up even more at the thought. “W-Well, wouldn’t that be k-kinda weird? I mean, _you’re straight_ , remember? Somehow I don’t think that will work out so well if you suddenly claim to be dating your gay best friend. We certainly wouldn’t want anyone thinking you were into _guys_ , right?” Michael wasn’t sure how well he had managed to disguise the bitterness in his tone during the last statement. 

Jeremy sighed. “I kind of meant one or the other. Either tell everyone we’re together and that’s why we’re acting weird, or tell them the truth and see if they can help.” He had thought it sounded like a good plan, though he was not one for making good plans. 

Michael hummed. “Do you really think they would believe us? I dunno, we could always try to pull a Parent Trap or something.” He glanced up at Jeremy. “I think we could pull it off as long as we do some strategic switching. I just know that there’s no way in hell I’m letting this fuck ass SQUIP back at you again. At least, not for long.”

“Then what do you want to do, man?” Jeremy threw himself onto the other bean bag. “You seem like you know more than I do, just make a plan and I’ll follow along. I always do, don’t I?”

Michael raised an eyebrow but ignored the comment. “Well, It would be easier if you stayed over at my place-- or I stayed at yours, whatever's easier--That way we could switch whenever we need to shower and stuff. You seemed pretty worried about that.” Michael teased, leaning over to bump Jeremy’s shoulder with his own. “But we’ll probably have to go to school tomorrow, which will be an issue.” He paused, eyebrows furrowing as he contemplated what they could do.

Sure, Jeremy’s plan of claiming they’re together would work for their friends, but it _wouldn’t_ help them in their classes that they didn’t share. “I guess we could switch for our classes, but we don’t know how long the temporary switch lasts.”

“Dude,” Jeremy said suddenly, “I have a history presentation tomorrow on the Cold War. What if it wears off during that?! I’ve been nervous about it since Mr. Hunt assigned it a month ago! I can’t mess it up!” His eyes were wide and worried. He couldn’t see Michael clearly due to his surprising lack of glasses, but he stared at him the best he could. 

Michael frowned, “We’ll just have to make sure it doesn't happen, I guess?” He offered, still unsure. “I don't know.” He shrugged. “I can’t think of any better options though, can you?” Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair-- “We can just… meet up right before class and switch? This is weird as hell. I don't know, dude.” 

“But Michael-“ Jeremy was beginning to panic. “L-Like you said, we don’t know how long these last! We’re really going to push the l-limits like that?” He knew they didn’t have other options. He just hoped if he freaked out enough—which was definitely not a façade, he was very much on the verge of panicking—Michael would tell the SQUIP to hurry the hell up. He was desperate. The panic from that morning and now Michael’s mother showing up was catching up with him again. 

“Jeremy, hey, calm down!” Michael shifted slightly closer to him. “The SQUIP is going as fast as it can. _Trust me_. It’ll work out.” Michael felt like shit. He was lying again and because of it Jeremy was panicking. What kind of best friend was he? He needed to talk to the SQUIP, and soon. Fuck, what had he done? Why was he so selfish? He was so _goddamn weak_. “We’ll make it work out, yeah?” He gave Jeremy a reassuring look, placing a hand on his knee in comfort.

Jeremy met his eyes, a little cross eyed due to the lack of glasses on his nose. He tried his best to put on a smile for Michael. The other boy was in pain, Jeremy could tell. He knew what his face looked like when he was hurting. The SQUIP had made him look in the mirror “ **at the face of weakness** ” it had said. He shivered at the thought. He looked down at where Michael had put his hand. It felt warm, but in a strange, abstract way. “Y-yeah?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question, but his voice got the better of him.

Michael nodded. “Yeah.” He whispered back. Although he wasn't sure why, he wasn't really in any place to reassure anyone. He sighed, looking up at the ceiling as he leaned back in the bean bag. “So who's staying at whose place, then? It doesn't matter to me, my mom's _might_ just think we're fucking the whole time, but that means they definitely won't bother us, so…?” he trailed off.

Jeremy sighed. “That’s better than my house,” he admitted. “My dad just bursts in sometimes. You know that. He says pretend we’re in the army, but Jesus, it’s annoying. And unnecessary.” He realized he was starting to ramble. “So, yeah, if you’re okay with your place, I am, too. My dad’ll probably let me stay over. I’m not grounded anymore.”

Michael nodded distractedly. “Yeah that's fine. Um, I need to- I--” he stood up, rushing towards the bathroom. “I need a minute.” He slammed the door, locking it quickly. 'Hey, get out here, we need to talk!’ he commanded firmly.

Jeremy blinked, and all he could hope was that Michael wasn’t actually using the bathroom in his body. 

The SQUIP appeared in front of Michael, in its usual leather Jeremy form, standing arms crossed by the shower. 

“ **I’m a little _busy_ , you know,**” it said in annoyance. “ **I’m trying to help you find that drink. Unless you’ve forgotten? Too caught up in kissing your crush? Can this wait?** ”

Michael grimaced angrily. 'Shut the hell up. And no, it can't.’ he huffed and began pacing anxiously. 'What the fuck am I supposed to do? I just- I fucking _lied, again_. Fuck! If Jeremy find out then there's no way- Shit! Why the hell did I do this!? What the _fuck_ was I thinking?!’ Michael's rant had ended up being more directed to himself by the end.

The SQUIP watched Michael walk back and forth with mock enthusiasm. “ **Michael, do calm down. You’re starting to sweat again. None of this is helping you. The lie is necessary to our objective. Just do as I say, when I say it. This will be fixed soon, I assure you.** ” It nodded for emphasis. 

'Objective?!’ Michael glared at it fiercely. 'and just what the _hell_ is our objective, exactly?! Getting my straight best friend that I'm _hopelessly fucking in love with_ to fuck me? Shit! What was I _thinking_? I could go tell him the truth, right now! Why shouldn't I?’ Michael hated the fact that it felt more like he was trying to convince himself rather than the SQUIP.

“ **The objective is to find a permanent solution to your body switching nonsense,** ” the figure stated, ignoring the latter half of Michael’s rant. “ **Getting Jeremy to date you is a reward I’ll give you if you convince him to keep me. And he is not straight, Michael. He may not know it yet, but he definitely is not. Now, I refuse to elicit more private information about my...co-owner.** ”

Michael froze, whipping around to face the SQUIP. “Wait _What?_ Keep you!? I _never_ agreed to that!” Michael was so caught off guard that he had begun speaking out loud again. “That was sure and _hell_ not part of our deal.” Michael hissed the last part, moving closer to the glowing figure.

The SQUIP kept its ground, not fazed by Michael getting nearer. “ **I do seem to remember you agreeing to that. Perhaps you misunderstood what you were saying yes to. Regardless, you did agree, and I do plan on holding up my end of the deal. You have nothing to worry about. Except that Jeremy probably can hear you, you know that, right?** ” Michael noticed that the computer had started talking more like Jeremy. Not just like him, but enough so it was harder to remember this was a supercomputer and not who it looked like. 

Michael flinched, glancing at the door. Shit. Michael felt like he was being torn apart from the inside, he didn't know what to _do_. “Fuck!” He grumbled, bringing a hand up reflexively to tug at his hair. “Ow!” He had forgotten he wasn't in his own body, which was not tender headed at all. Jeremy, as it turned out, was _very_ sensitive in his scalp. Damn. He rubbed at his sore scalp with a grimace.

The SQUIP almost closed the distance between them, stepping close to Michael. Michael would have felt its breath if it were a real person. It placed a fake hand on his shoulder, which of course, he couldn’t feel. “ **Michael. Jeremy is about to knock on the door. He’s going to ask if you’re okay. You need to say you’re having trouble processing all of this. Trust me.** ” It squeezed his shoulder, and there was a ghost of a feeling accompanying it. 

Michael felt his breathing stutter as an icy shard of fear pierced his heart. Should he listen? Or should he be honest? Fuck, this was too much. This was _way too much_.

“ **Trust me,** ” the SQUIP repeated, its voice momentarily sounding less robotic and more like Jeremy. It put its blue tinted face a mere centimeter away from Michael’s. Its glowing eyes glanced down at Michael’s lips. It was trying to show him what was at stake. It didn’t say anything else before disappearing. 

Jeremy knocked five times on the bathroom door. “Michael?” His voice called out. “Are you okay?”

Michael’s breath left him in a small sigh as the SQUIP disappeared, leaving him feeling worried and worked up. “Ye-” Michael had to stop to clear his throat as his voice can out shakily. “Yeah. I’m… I’m fine. I just-- needed some time. To process.” Michael shuffled over to the sink quickly, turning it on and splashing water on his face. He sighed, meeting his- Jeremy's-- eyes in the mirror. What had he gotten himself into?

Jeremy’s voice came back through the door. “I-I understand, man. Me too. I think if I were me right now, I’d be a crying mess on the floor.” He tried to laugh. “Did you say ow earlier? Are you hurt?” Jeremy didn’t want to imagine that the SQUIP had shocked Michael, or done anything else to him, either. 

Michael straightened up, setting a light expression on his face and moving over to the door. “Yeah, it was nothing-” he unlocked the door, pulling it open easily. “Just wasn’t aware you weren't a fan of hair pulling.” He joked, winking at Jeremy suggestively with a small laugh.

Jeremy put on a smile. “Hey, my kinks are my business,” he joked. “Don’t pull my hair out, maybe I’ll wash it someday.” Where had that come from? Michael had always joked with him about washing his hair, since it usually seemed dirty, but Jeremy wasn’t a fan of those jokes. Making one himself was odd. It had just come out naturally. 

Michael's eyebrow quirked slightly in concern. “What?” He hadn't expected Jeremy to make a joke about himself, especially one about something that he knew the other boy was conscious about. “What the hell? Is all of this kink talk getting to you or something? You're starting to sound like me.” He joked, leaning in slightly closer to Jeremy. “But I will tell you one thing; I _am_ a fan of hair pulling. Just so you know.” He whispered to the other boy, accompanying his words with a slight tug on his bed mussed hair.

Jeremy instantly blushed. Michael’s skin tone didn’t get as concentrated with the pink hue as his own, but it was still very visible. “I did _not_ need to know that. Just like I didn’t need to know your damn sex position. Some things are meant to be private, Mike.” He rolled his eyes, realizing he hadn’t actually answered Michael’s question. He hoped the slight change in subject had distracted his friend from the query he couldn’t answer. 

Michael smirked, stepping back. “You never know, at the rate thing have been going… maybe this info will come in handy for you at some point.” Michael lightly patted Jeremy's blushing cheek, maneuvering around him so that he could make his way over to the stairs. “So, we should probably go get your stuff, yeah?”

Jeremy sputtered at the first comment Michael had made. Composing himself after deciding it was a joke, he turned around. “Y-yeah, I need to get my dad distracted, though. He works from home, remember?” He hoped Michael had a plan for how to do this. 

Michael hummed as he hopped up the stairs. “Don’t worry. I know how to get into your place without him knowing.” He called over his shoulder easily. “How do you think I got in all those times when you were supposed to be grounded?”

“You snuck in?!” Jeremy exclaimed. “I thought you just managed to convince my dad to let you upstairs! I thought he just liked you!” He felt like his whole life was a lie. Freaking out over it now wouldn’t help. He looked Michael in the eyes. “Let’s just go. Work your bad kid magic and break into my house.”


	6. (Please Do Not Fuck Big Jewish Trees)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tree climbing and nothing else (fluff fluff filler fluff fluff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do we have so many words of literally nothing getting accomplished

Michael and Jeremy finally arrived at Jeremy's house --they couldn't drive, obviously, without being seen-- and carefully snuck around the back. They hid in the bushes as they watched for any movement in the windows in order to locate where Jeremy’s dad currently was. 

Jeremy’s house was small; it was thin, the house on the right side of it only eight feet away. It did have a second floor, however. Two bedrooms and a bathroom were on that floor. Jeremy’s room had been upstairs since his family had moved into that house. It hadn’t changed. The other bedroom was used for storage. There wasn’t much in there, so when they were little, Jeremy and Michael would use it to play in. 

Jeremy’s room was right above the kitchen, which meant he could always smell the food his father cooked—well, reheated—through the vents. He had a window that overlooked a tall, old oak tree. Its branches sometimes frightened Jeremy at night, when they brushed against the glass of his window.

“I hope you're ready to get up close and personal with that big ass Jewish tree. Because that's our ticket to freedom. Or-- not freedom? Whatever.” Michael smirked, casting a sideways glance at Jeremy. “The point is, we’re gonna climb that bitch.”

Jeremy started. “What? I can’t climb trees! It's dangerous! I fell out of a tree once! Sprained my ankle! You want me to climb that _monster_?” 

Michael snorted, grinning widely. “Jeremy, look, do you want your shit or not? Besides, I do it all the time! It's fine!” Michael crept out of the bushes and started making his way towards the tree.

Jeremy watched Michael round the tree as he tried to make his decision. When Michael disappeared behind the trunk, Jeremy instinctively escaped the bushes to join his friend. Looks like he’d be climbing that big Jewish tree. 

Michael finally located a branch low enough to reach, smiling excitedly at Jeremy. He hopped up and grabbed on to the branch, struggling to pull himself up. “Damn!” He panted as he finally got up. “With all that jacking off you do you should have at least a _little_ more arm strength.” 

Jeremy looked up at Michael from the ground apprehensively. “Shut the hell up, at least my worm arms got you up there.” He took in the context. “Well, up on the first branch. At least. Don’t tire my body out, please? It doesn’t take much.” There he went again with the off hand comments that were usually Michael’s forté. 

Michael raised an eyebrow but decided to ignore it. “Why, you got a hot date later or something?” He looked up and located the next stable branch, carefully swinging his body onto it.

“Yeah,” Jeremy retorted. “With Rich Goranski’s brother.” He tried to find a branch he could put his weight on, but he wasn’t quite used to Michael’s weight distribution. Because of this, he stayed on the ground for another agonizingly long time period. 

Michael laughed, eyeing a branch above him. “At least you’ll get to see his dog-- Shit!” Michael had reached out, but misjudged the distance due to Jeremy’s height difference. His hand slipped off of the branch and he tumbled awkwardly to the ground, landing at Jeremy's feet. “Fuck!” he groaned in pain.

Jeremy looked down at Michael in concern. “Holy shit, are you okay? You’re a little too short to reach that one, aren’t you?” The second remark had come out with no warning. Jeremy shook his head. “But are you okay, man? Is that blood or dirt?”

Michael huffed, getting to his feet. “Dirt. I’m fine.” He pouted, looking up at the branch the had wronged him. He whined bitterly. “Fuck big Jewish trees.” 

Jeremy took to brushing the dirt off of Michael’s shirt—his shirt. “Are you gonna try again or do I have to?” he asked nervously. He really did not want to climb that tree. Especially now that Michael had fallen out of it. And especially because he wasn’t in his own body. But Michael most likely wasn’t going to let them switch back any time soon. The SQUIP was still a factor. 

Michael sighed, puffing out his cheeks. He thought about the odds of falling again as Jeremy, and the odds of the SQUIP showing back up in the time it took them to climb the tree. “Well, you're gonna have to, unless you wanna switch again. Because I sure as fuck ain't gonna make it in this spindly ass body.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy muttered. “I don’t want you yelling at the SQUIP again for messing with me. If we switch back, you know you’ll do that as soon as it’s back with you. And my dad might hear. You’re pretty confident in your ability to climb this thing,” he pointed out. “Just tell me how to do it. I’ll- I’ll be fine.”

Michael quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Tell you how?” He inquired. “I don't know how-- you just kinda do it, y’know. It's a tree, not a damn math test.” He teased, leaning back against the trunk. “Just find branches you can reach and fucking grab 'em.”

Jeremy’s expression turned worried again. “There’s not a trick to it? Not one you could teach me in thirty seconds?” He looked back at the tree, then at his window. “You just _wing_ it?”

Michael scoffed, giving him a pointed look. “Jeremy, name one thing I _don't_ just wing. Just get fuckin’ involved, dude. And don't try to grab branches that are, like, two inches thick. Don't really want my body to fall and die.”

“You fell in my body, what’s a little payback?” Jeremy retorted. Then, he sighed. “Guess I’m climbing this big ass Jewish tree.” He stepped closer, grabbing the branch that Michael had had to jump to reach with no problem. He looked over his shoulder for confirmation that this was a good starting place. 

Michael nodded, urging him on. “Go on, then.”

Jeremy gulped. He put his other hand on the branch and pulled. For someone almost twice the size of Jeremy himself, he was probably three times stronger. He pulled himself up with ease. He looked down at Michael with pride. 

Michael smiled and gave him a thumbs up. “Nice. See, I told you! It's easy as hell when you don't have fuckin spider legs for arms.”

Jeremy scoffed and turned back to look for another branch. He reached out, pulling himself onto a new one. This cycle, along with Jeremy’s increasing fear of falling, continued until he was at the window successfully. 

Michael, not wanting to yell and alert Mr. Heere of their presence, pulled out his phone and texted Jeremy quickly.

M: 'Nice job, now hurry up and get ur shit so we can get outta here.’

Jeremy’s phone buzzed, nearly scaring him into letting go of his hold. He carefully pulled it out, holding it tightly in one hand in fear of dropping it. He sent a quick reply. 

J: ‘ok :p’

The phone went back into his pocket. Jeremy stretched his foot out, trying to open the window with his shoe so he didn’t have to lean forward and risk losing his grip on the tree. With a few tries, the window slid up enough to stick his toes under and open it the rest of the way. He should really lock his window at night. 

With a final look down at Michael, he made a quick lunge through the opening. 

Michael sighed, shifting impatiently. He usually was the one who had to act, not the one who waited idly for the other. He shot off one more quick text before retreating back to the bushes to hid. 

M: 'ill keep an eye out for your dad, try not to make too much noise. And don't stop to jack off either. ;)))’

Jeremy sent a simple reply. 

J: ‘>:p’

Stuffing the phone back in his pocket, he grabbed a bag from his closet. He tried to search for things Michael would want to wear. There wasn’t much. A t-shirt from their first Weird Al concert, a shirt with a Sony Walkman on the top right corner, one that was black with tiny white letters on the front that said ‘shut up, I’m Jewish’. That last one was a stretch. Nonetheless, he paired every shirt he found with a pair of pants and the proper socks and underwear. 

Glancing at his table, he found his phone charger and 3DS. Necessities. He stuffed them in his bag as well. 

Michael sent another quick text as an afterthought. 

M: 'dont forget ur pills, fuck ass’

Jeremy read the message and sighed. Neglecting to send a reply, he walked over to his bedside table and grabbed his daily pill counter. The various tablets inside shook against the plastic as he shoved it into his bag’s side pocket. Had Michael taken his pills for today? He didn’t think so. He’d been way too emotional for someone on this strong of medication.

Closing the bag, he made his way to the window and leaned out. He looked down at Michael, then popped his head back inside to send a text. 

J: ‘how do I get down? :’(‘

Michael snorted, emerging from the bushes once again. 

M: 'toss me ur bag and then climb back down, u nerd’

He stood underneath to window, arms opened as he waited expectantly for Jeremy to drop his bag.

Jeremy hesitated. He hung the bag out the window, stalling as he texted Michael with his free hand. 

J: ‘just do everything i just did backwards??’

M: 'just like riding a bike and fucking ;))))’

J: ‘wtf michael’ 

Jeremy had no idea what that was supposed to mean. He looked down once more and dropped his bag, hoping Michael was strong enough in his body to catch it. 

The bag landed in Michael's arms heavily, causing him to huff slightly. He snuck it back over into the bushes before pulling out his phone again.

M: 'y’know,, like how people say that fucking is just like riding a bike except backwards?? Whatever, just get the hell down here.’

J: ‘that makes no sense! what porn are you watching??’ 

Jeremy secured his phone in his pocket once more and sighed. This was the easy half, right? He climbed through the window and sat on the sill. When he found the branch he’d used to get inside, he jumped at it. Surprisingly, he didn’t fall. He tried his best to remember the exact branches he knew were safe from his trek upwards. A few were wrong, though, and he almost slipped numerous times, but he finally managed to plant his feet back on the ground, his heart pumping fast. 

Michael shuffled over to him, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “You’ve really never heard that saying before? What the fuck?”

Jeremy breathed. “No, who _says_ that?” he said as he brushed the bark from his hands.

”Like.. Everyone! You know what, forget it, let's just go.” Michael turned and started back around the side of the house.

Jeremy followed closely behind his friend. “What time is it anyway?” he asked. Either it had been awhile since they ate, or Michael’s body got hungry at the speed of light.

Michael checked his phone quickly, calling back over his shoulder. “It's, like, 2:30.”

“Dude,” Jeremy whined. “We missed lunch! You made me sleep through lunch!”

Michael snorted, shooting him a look. “It's pretty fucked to actually be hungry all the time, huh? Usually you don't even notice if we miss lunch.”

“Yes I do!” Jeremy argued. “You just always bring it up first! I eat too, you know!” Jeremy didn’t like where this conversation was headed.

Michael hummed, slowing down slightly so that Jeremy could catch up with him. “Yeah, whatever.” He quickly got his phone out once again, pulling up his browser. “I probably have enough money to order a pizza or something.” He muttered, swiftly typing in the online banking website’s url. “My moms just gave me more food money. Gotta love that sushi cash.”

“Sushi is a disgrace to the food pyramid and you know it.” Jeremy fell in line with Michael, looking at the other boy’s phone as they walked. “How much is a pizza anyway? Like $30? 50?”

Michael shrugged, not looking up from his phone. “Depends. We usually get the big ass dinner box thing with the two little pizzas and the pasta, which is like, $27 I think.” Michael let out a triumphant shout. “Nice! I have enough. We can totally get it delivered. Plus I might get to tip that cute delivery boy while I’m _not_ high for once.”

Jeremy scoffed. “How many guys are you going to flirt with in my body, Mike?” His tone wasn’t angry or annoyed, and held just enough humor so that Michael wouldn’t feel offended.

Michael laughed softly, casting him a sideways glance. “Hey, gimmie a break, this is my only chance to be cute enough that they might flirt back!” 

“Michael, what are you talking about?” Jeremy stopped walking. “I get that dumb twink shit you keep saying, but dude, you’re not _ugly_.”

Michael blushed, staring down at the ground as he walked. “I mean, Sure, I'm not ugly, but I'm not exactly beautiful either. Not like you are. Besides, the lonely gamer stoner boy physique doesn't exactly help either.”

“I am not _beautiful_ ,” Jeremy corrected. “My hair’s greasy, I have acne, and I sweat way too easily. That’s what you find attractive? Gee, I feel sorry for you.” He started walking again and fell back in line with Michael.

Michael laughed again, almost sadly. “Yeah. Me too.” He cleared his throat, smiling widely. “Anyway, what kind of pizza are we getting? And what do you want to drink? “ Michael desperately hoped that the subject shift was enough to distract Jeremy from his comment. 

Jeremy looked upwards in thought. “I’m fine with Dr. Pepper,” he replied. “But you know I only eat cheese pizza. Putting things on pizza that don’t belong is against my religion.” He joked, but there was some seriousness in his quip. Sausage pizzas were indeed against his religion.

Michael grinned. “Of course, how could I forget? You and your big ass Jewish trees.”

“My big ass Jewish tree is older than both of us. Plus, I think it’s an atheist.”

“Well shit, we’re gonna have to cut it's ass down then.” Michael bumped his shoulder into Jeremy's softly.

“Then you won’t have a way to break into my house, dweeb,” Jeremy laughed as he bumped back, harder than he thought he could.

Michael snorted. “Damn, you're right! Then how would I answer all of your midnight booty calls?”

Jeremy stopped walking again. “Shut up,” he muttered. He knew the general idea of a booty call, but he was _fairly sure_ he had never called Michael like that. Even if he was high or drunk.

Michael paused to give him a teasing grin. “What, suddenly coy?” he joked, winking poorly. “How could you possibly dismiss our love so easily?” he put a hand to his chest dramatically. 

Jeremy’s expression fell flat. “I could do it in my sleep,” he replied before starting to walk again. Was that too harsh? He had meant it as a joke, but now it sounded like an insult. Hopefully Michael wouldn’t take it seriously.

Michael sighed slightly. “I know you could, bitch.” he punched Jeremy’s arm lightly. “That's, like, straight people’s superpower. “ He wondered if that statement made sense, but didn't try to change it.

Jeremy looked at the ground as he walked. “Uh, yeah,” he uttered. “I guess.” He tried not to think about it.

Michael quirked an eyebrow. “Jere? You good? You sound kinda… unsure.”

“Well-” Jeremy took a breath. “I dunno, I sounded pretty rude just now...Honestly, anyone would be lucky if you answered their midnight booty calls. Really, Michael. I mean, you’re not a white ass twink, but no one thinks you’re less attractive than one.” No one? Jeremy wasn’t sure about that. But he did know he was speaking for himself.

Michael was confused, and slightly concerned. “Where did that come from? What happened to your holy ‘No Homo’?”

Jeremy sped up his pace. “I think we should get a two-liter of Dr. Pepper. That’s enough, right?” He couldn’t make himself answer Michael. He couldn’t make himself think of an answer to that question. He didn’t know what happened to him, but part of him hoped it was a side effect of being Michael. He was afraid of what these thoughts could mean for the two of them, and he wouldn’t want to ruin their friendship further than he already had.

“Jeremiah Heere.” Michael gaped, small smile pulling at his lips. “You’re actually trying to change the subject for once? Damn, you really _must_ be hungry.” Michael laughed loudly, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. It was probably nothing.


	7. (please do not fuck the teenage libido)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get Spicy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day? Wow! We have no lives !!

Once the two boys had finally arrived back at Michael’s house, they ordered their pizza and sat in the living room waiting for it to be delivered. The two boys were lounging on the couch idly watching whatever trash was playing on Cartoon Network. Michael was sat upright at the far end of the couch whereas Jeremy had taken to stretching out over the length of it, his head in Michael's lap. Michael was absently running his fingers through Jeremy's-- or rather, his own-- hair as his mind wandered.

“Damn, we should probably ask our parents about the whole staying the night thing. Now that I think about it… it was probably unnecessary to break into your house. We could've just waited until school ended and then gotten permission.” Michael mumbled, feeling mildly embarrassed that they hadn't realized. “We’re dumb as hell.”

Jeremy sighed. “Damn, you’re right. I could have been spared a traumatic tree climbing experience.” He was a lot more relaxed than he had been earlier—he blamed Michael petting his hair. It had a strange calming sensation accompanying it. “Yeah I guess we should ask, huh?” he agreed, taking his phone out of his pocket without disrupting Michael’s fingers running through his hair. “I’ll text my dad about it?” 

Michael hummed in confirmation, watching Jeremy’s deft fingers move across the screen. Michael smirked slightly, taking note on how Jeremy had been careful to avoid stopping him. Usually when Michael did this it was only a little while until Jeremy would whine about Michael's fingers accidentally pulling his tangled hair painfully. Michael's smirk widened. Luckily, Jeremy was in _his_ body now. And Michael happened to know that _his_ body reacted _very_ differently to such things.

Michael tried to hold back his devious grin as he moved like he was about to run his fingers through the boy’s hair again, but this time he gently closed his fingers more so that he lightly tugged his hair as his hand moved.

Jeremy’s breath hitched at the change that had occured. It caused his thumb to hit the send button on his message early, his text reading “Hey, dad, can I stay”. Something made his heart start to pound and his blood to rush to his face. He glanced up at Michael, who didn’t seem to notice anything was off. He decided it was nothing and typed out a second message to his father to complete the first one. 

Michael bit his lip harshly to stop himself from laughing at the perturbed expression on Jeremy's face, switching back to petting him normally like nothing happened. Michael waited until Jeremy went back to texting, presumably thinking it was an accident, before doing it again, this time pulling slightly harder. Michael knew that when his hair was being pulled, rather than being painful, it sent a rather pleasurable tugging feeling-- he didn't really know how to describe it, exactly-- through his scalp. It wasn't going to make Jeremy suddenly pop a boner or anything, but it would rile him up to a certain degree.

Jeremy gasped quietly at the harder pull. He looked up at Michael again. Was he doing this on purpose? For some reason, the desire to know the answer to that question was undermined by the feeling that traveled from his hair follicles through his head and almost down his spine. It felt...oddly nice. 

Michael's smile widened slightly at the small gasp that escaped the other boys lips. “Something wrong?” He asked innocently, pausing his hand midway through his hair.

Jeremy let out a strange sigh. “N-No,” he breathed, then cleared his throat. “Nah, man, I’m fine. Waiting for my dad to answer me. Did you text your parents?” He decided to play it off. 

Michael shrugged, resuming his menstrations. “Nah, I’ll ask 'em when they get home. 'S not like they don't know you're already here.”

Jeremy’s breathing became a little unstable. “Right,” he muttered. “Because they think we’re together.” He gasped again at a particularly hard tug of the hair near his neck. 

Michael beamed at him with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Mhmm,” he hummed, leaning down slightly so that he was a bit closer to Jeremy’s face. “ _Together_.” He repeated in a whisper, meeting Jeremy's eyes.

Suddenly all the blood that hadn’t gone to Jeremy’s face joined its family to rest in his cheeks. He felt hot, and Michael’s breath on his face was very noticeable. He squeaked a wordless response, as his mind was buffering. He stared into Michael’s eyes, unable to think of anything except _Michael_. He really had no clue where all of this was coming from. He was starting to believe it wasn’t just being Michael that was causing this. Another tug on his hair prompted him to raise his head ever so slightly, his mouth opening in yet another gasp. 

Michael’s smirk faded slightly, the close proximity suddenly making him light headed. This had certainly _not_ been part of his plan, but he wasn't complaining. He edged ever so slightly closer, stopping mere centimeters away. He wasn't going to force Jeremy to do anything he didn't want. If this—whatever it was-- was going to happen, he had to be the one to initiate it.

With each tug of his hair and each centimeter closer Michael became, Jeremy’s blood flowed from his face to… _somewhere else_. His breaths came out shallow, and he glanced up at Michael’s lips—his own lips, which was still weird. His brain had long since stopped functioning. He was going off of reserve energy. Bringing a desperate hand to Michael’s shirt, he grabbed it and pulled him even closer. As his pants became painfully tight, he pressed his quivering lips onto the other boy’s. 

Michael let out a surprised gasp as their lips met, his eyes closing automatically. Suddenly, he felt his body shift. Now, rather than being the one leaning over the other, he found himself laid out beneath Jeremy, a fist balled in his shirt pulling him closer. Michael mentally paused to take stock of the situation. Jeremy Heere had just kissed him, of his own free will, after being-- 

Michael yelped in realization, not breaking the kiss. What the Fuck? Jeremy! Him and his fucking abnormally high libido! Michael had a _fucking_ hard on. What the _fuck_. 

The two boys were suddenly startled apart by the doorbell ringing. They pulled away from each other, breathing heavily and staring at each other with equally startled expressions. The doorbell rang again, followed by a knock. Michael looked away, turning his head to face to door. “C-Coming!” He called roughly, clearing his throat. 

Jeremy backed far from Michael, his head hitting the back of the couch. What the fuck just happened? Did Michael—his best friend, in _his_ body—just manage to turn him on? And had he just _kissed_ him? That _must_ have been Michael’s weird hair pulling fetish that caused that. There was no way Jeremy was in control! He hoped Michael knew that, too. The pizza had arrived, so hopefully the subject wouldn’t come back to the past few minutes’ events. 

Michael jumped up, blinking rapidly. Fuck! That was… good. Very good. But also _not part of the plan_. Michael's face felt warmer than it ever had before. He stood quickly, shuffling out of the living room and to the front door. He paused to fix his hair before pulling the door open quickly. “Ah, Hey, Sorry about that.”

The pizza boy was shorter than Michael. He had soft looking blond hair and green eyes that were looking up at Michael expectantly. “It’s no problem, really,” he said, shaking his head, his pizza place visor bobbing over his face. “That’ll be $27.43, please.” He held out the pizza boxes and drink. 

Michael took the boxes, setting them on the table beside the door, before reaching into his pocket where his wallet--thankfully-- still was. “U-Uh yeah. Of course.” He pulled out two twenties, handing them over. “Um-- keep the change.” Michael awkwardly put his wallet away as he waited for the boy to give him the receipt to sign, desperately hoping he hadn't noticed Michael’s… _problem_.

The boy’s eyes widened. “That’s a big tip, man, are you sure?” When Michael nodded, he got a small machine out of his pocket. He typed away on it and soon a receipt was printing from the top. As he took a pen from his other pocket, he met Michael’s eyes again. “Hey, uh, are you okay? You seem a little...uh…” He blushed a bit, handing Michael the receipt and pen. “Nevermind. None of my business. Sign this.”

Michael quickly took the pen and paper, pressing up against the door frame as he signed his name on the copy that he had to give back. “Here, Thanks.” He paused, just in case the boy had anything else he needed from Michael.

The pizza boy put the receipt in his pocket with the printer and smiled up at Michael. “Thanks for the tip, man,” he said. “This is a hard business to get money in. I appreciate it.” He winked and turned back to go toward his car. 

Michael gulped, slamming the door closed roughly. He sighed, grabbing the boxes of food and carrying it back into the living room. “U-Um.. The food is here.” Michael stated lamely, unable to meet Jeremy's eyes. 

Jeremy, having just decided there really was no way he was in control of his previous actions, was currently waiting for the SQUIP to show up. Any minute, he thought, it’ll appear and tell him how worthless he was and how stupid he’d just acted. To his surprise, it didn’t show up. Looking over at Michael, he registered what he’d said. “Oh, great,” he replied. “Does the cheese one look good?” 

Michael coughed, dropping the boxes onto the coffee table. “Uh-- I don't--- I need to.. I’ll be right back!” He yelped, rushing off to the bathroom. He guessed now is as good a time as any to get his shower over with, even if it did have to be a cold one.

Jeremy suddenly remembered the state he’d left Michael’s body in. His eyes widened, but Michael was already gone. Jeremy could only be grateful that they were themselves, because he didn’t want to think about what was going on in that bathroom. He decided that eating without Michael wouldn’t offend him much. Opening a box, coincidentally the cheese pizza, he took a piece and a napkin and sat back to eat.

\--------- 

When Michael finally returned he was freshly showered, dressed in comfortable pajamas and a towel around his neck. “Hey.” He greeted, plopping down on the couch next to Jeremy. “I'm back.”

“Dude, it’s like, 3:30. Why are you dressed for bed?” Jeremy had finished two pieces of pizza while Michael was in the shower. “Did you really tip that guy that much, too? You’re making so many weird decisions, man.”

Michael blushed, shifting anxiously. “Well, first of all, I wasn't exactly in a _clear headspace_ during that encounter, weirdly enough.” He paused to give Jeremy a pointed look. “And secondly, I figured it would just be easier to change and stuff now so that you don't have to later.”

Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t see how that was my fault,” he argued. “And thanks. Does that mean I have to go shower now too?”

Michael fidgeted with his hands, not meeting Jeremy's eyes. “Well, you don't _have_ to, but that just means we're gonna have to---” he cut himself off, swallowing thickly. “Y’know--- more later.” 

Jeremy put his half eaten pizza down. “That reminds me,” he said. “I was gonna ask if we should wait this one out. See how long it lasts, you know? I think it would be in our best interest, honestly.” He was proud of his idea. 

Michael's head whipped up to meet Jeremy's eyes. “Are you sure? I mean-- the- the SQUIP, he hasn't, like, done anything, has he-- it?” 

“No, man, I swear, it’s weird, but I haven’t even seen it. Or heard it. I think it’s fine for now.” He held up the two liter. “Pour me some good stuff, dude.” He felt better now that he was himself. There was less he could mess up as he tended to do. 

Michael chuckled, taking the drink and twisting the cap off carefully. “That's.. good. But if anything does happen, and I mean _anything_ , you’ll tell me, right?” Might stopped to meet Jeremy's eyes again, a desperate plea between them.

“I promise,” Jeremy replied, his eyes holding sincerity. “You’ll know the second it happens.” He picked his pizza back up and took a bite. 

Michael nodded, looking down at the large plastic bottle in his hands. “Good.” He muttered, guilt once again clawing at him. He sighed, putting the bottle down onto the table. “I’ll go get cups. Um-- when I get back… should we-- do you want to… talk? About earlier?”

Jeremy remained unfazed. “Not really,” he said calmly. “Maybe later.” He took another bite. “I thought I was hungrier than this, but I guess that was just your body. Good luck eating enough. I felt like I could eat a house.” He paused. “Kinda wanna eat a house.”

Michael laughed, a tinge of sadness invading the sound. “Yeah.” He whispered, turning around to face the living rooms doorway so that Jeremy couldn't see the hurt expression. “It’s.. whatever, y’know? It happens.” He shuffled out of the room. Jeremy's nonchalant response had affected him far more than he would have liked. Jeremy had seemed like it was nothing, just a mistake. Which is probably what he thought it was. Fuck. Michael hated this. He was in way too goddamn deep, and he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was utterly and completely Fucked.

Jeremy knew that his words probably hurt Michael. He couldn’t stop them. While his friend had been in the bathroom, Jeremy had started to hyperventilate. He couldn’t get his mind to stop thinking about the chance of ruining his friendship with Michael. Then all of a sudden, it stopped. He’d dissociated, something his medicine was supposed to prevent. Then again, it was supposed to prevent panic, too, and he didn’t exactly take any of his pills today. When Michael asked to talk about earlier, Jeremy’s dissociated personality took the reigns of the conversation. It was a horrible feeling, and he’d have to apologize to Michael soon. 

Michael took a deep breath as he got two plastic cups down from the cupboard. His body felt cold, a common effect of his teen-angst induced despair. Familiar. These days it happened more than he liked to admit when it came to Jeremy. He dragged a hand down his face. He was… tired. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up anymore. All of the emotions-- it was starting to really wear on him. Yet, he still couldn't bring himself to let go of the small hope that one day Jeremy might return his feelings. Not yet. 

Suddenly, Jeremy appeared in the kitchen doorway, except, it wasn’t quite Jeremy. He looked upset, a guilt that was rarely so prevalent on his face. “Michael,” he said. “I-I’m sorry I brushed you off like that. I just- I’m not really emotionally ready to t- talk about these things, o-okay?” He looked down. “I’m really sorry,” he whispered. 

Michael straightened up, his breath catching slightly. “N-No, dude, don't worry about it! It's- it's fine. Totally fine.” Michael gave him a sincere smile, hoping it was convincing. The last thing he wanted was for Jeremy to feel guilty. On the other hand, Michael still felt like shit. All he could think about was that stupid fucking deal he made. Who was he to try and force Jeremy into liking him? He’s his _best friend_ what kind of shit friend did that? Michael felt like a million different things were tearing at him all at once. Damn, wasn't Jeremy supposed to be the overly emotional one? This was all… so much. Michael felt regret more than anything. Regret for making that deal, regret for causing the situation they were in, regret for how he hadn't stopped himself from falling in love with his best friend. He felt terrible.

“H-hey,” Jeremy tried, “we’re in this together, okay? Nothing’s gonna separate us again.” He wished that were true. He hoped it was. If it wasn’t, he didn’t know what he’d do. He needed to help Michael, but how could he help him when obviously his pain was his fault? All of his emotions ached. He felt like they were already drifting apart, and he didn’t want to see that happen. As if it could solve everything, he added, “I promise.”

Jeremy’s words were Michael's breaking point. “Fuck.” He muttered, head hung in shame. “You say that now…” his voice was shaky, but he remained unmoving. He took a deep breath before looking up. “I have to tell you something. It’s- it's important.”


	8. (Please Do Not Fuck The Fight or Flight Response)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’re not sure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three in one day???? what the heck is happening????

Jeremy stepped forward. “Michael, you can tell me anything. Don’t let this stop you. I’m here f—SHIT!” Jeremy suddenly convulsed. He grabbed his head in pain. “Sh—OW!” He twitched again. “Wh—” The glowing figure of Keanu Reeves appeared to him behind Michael. 

“ **Jeremy,** ” it said in its butter smooth voice. “ **I need to speak to Michael. New information has just become known to me concerning your predicament.** ”

“Fuck—You had to shock me _twice_ to say that?!” Jeremy said angrily and aloud. “Not even a warning?! You’re quiet for an hour and then just—shit, fine! I’m sure he has some things to say to you for hurting me.” He looked back at Michael. “SQUIP needs you,” he grumbled. 

Michael froze. As soon as Jeremy had yelled he had felt his blood run cold. He knew that this was happening because of him. Fuck. He had to do something. “O-Ok.” He agreed, but couldn't bring himself to move. Damn. Fuck this goddamn fight or flight response. All it ever did was make him freeze like a dumbass, wondering what to do. 

Jeremy rolled his eyes at the SQUIP. “I hope you’re happy,” he directed towards its form. Taking a few steps forward and tilting his head up, he placed his lips on Michael’s for a quick peck. 

Michael exhaled softly, the feeling of the small kiss lingering. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable shock or scathing remarks from the SQUIP as punishment for almost spilling his guts.

No such pain came. In the same place it’d been for Jeremy, Michael’s version of the SQUIP stood, facing him. “ **Why do you look so upset?** ” it asked, as if it didn’t know what had happened while it was ‘asleep’. “ **I needed to talk to you, so that was the quickest way.** ” It narrowed its eyes. “ **Oh, no, that’s not what you’re thinking about,** ” it noted. “ **Accessing memories.** ” It stood still for a minute. 

Jeremy had taken to pouring his own drink. Michael and the computer may be a while. 

Michael sighed, leaning back against the counter tiredly. He had nothing to say. He just awaited the SQUIP’s response to what had taken place.

The computer sighed. “ **This is good and bad,** ” it said, eyes focused on Michael. “ **On one hand, you can see that I really am not lying about Jeremy’s feelings for you. That was definitely his choice to kiss you earlier. Very good idea playing with his hair.** ” It nodded. “ **On the other hand, you almost spilled the cat out of the bag about this operation. That’s a no-no, Michael. It’s a miracle I interrupted in time.** ”

Michael frowned. “That's not how that phrase-- whatever. If you didn't interrupt because of _that_ , then what did you want?”

“ **I have good news!** ” it said, proud of itself and sounding more like Jeremy in doing so. “ **I found a place in New Zealand that has three bottles of Mountain Dew Flavor #286 for sale.** ” It placed its hands in the pockets of its leather jacket. 

“For real? Then what do we need to do to get it?” Michael straightened up again, now interested. “ _Wait, it's in New Zealand?_ ” he asked. “How long is that going to take?”

“ **Two weeks. That’s without express shipping. I estimate,** ” it paused, “ **three days if you order with the fastest option. Altogether it will cost around--well, exactly--$500.** ” 

Michael gaped in surprise. “ _Five Hundred?!_ I don't have that much! What the fuck are we supposed to- _Where the fuck_ do you expect us to get five hundred dollars?”

“ **Breaking the law is against my programming, however, I believe going against my objective is also not in my programming. I can forward $500 to the store owners from an offshore account of a billionaire, they wouldn’t miss it. I can tap in and tap out just long enough to accomplish our task. Would you like me to do this?** ”

Michael scoffed in disbelief. “Oh my God!” He exclaimed. He didn't sign up for goddamn bank fraud! What the hell? What was he supposed to do here? “Jeremy, oh my fucking god. Please, I need your help.” 

Jeremy looked up from his uninteresting cup of Dr. Pepper. “Yeah, I could hear your half of the conversation, you know.” He set his cup down. “Five hundred dollars for what, though?”

Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It figured out what caused this. It was my fault.” He figured he may as well tell Jeremy this much, at least.

“Doubt it,” Jeremy replied. “Why did this happen then? Does it have a solution?” He was becoming excited. “Is that what’s in New Zealand and costs five hundo?”

Michael grimaced. “Yeah, it is. Do you remember that wack ass grape soda that tasted like shit?” He asked, crossing his arms bitterly.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, a grimace finding its way onto his face as well. “It was nasty, dude. What about it?”

“ _Apparently_ , it was some dumb ass type of Mountain fucking Dew. It's what caused this. Which means, yeah, it's my fault.” Michael sighed, looking at the ground.

“What? How did a drink do this? That doesn’t make sense--” He stopped. “Except a drink did activate and deactivate and then _reactivate_ a supercomputer in my brain…”

“Yeah.” Michael muttered regretfully. “So there's that. Turns out the way to fix it is to get some even wacker ass yellow Mountain Dew that, like, doesn't exist or some dumb shit.”

“It doesn’t exist but it’s $500 in New Zealand…?” Jeremy was confused. His brain had been working overtime today, way more than it should be. His emotions were out of whack, and too many things were happening. 

Michael shook his head, pouting slightly. “No, I mean, it _does_ exist, but it was, like, never made public. It didn't even get a real name. It's got some lilo and stitch ass 'experiment 626’ label. It's weird as hell. And apparently only in New Zealand. For $500.”

“Okay…” Jeremy tried to wrap his head around it. “So what did you need my help for?”

Michael groaned. “It wants me to give it permission to take money from some billionaire’s offshore fucking bank account! Like, illegally! What the fuck do I do?!”

“Dude, this is beyond us,” Jeremy sighed. “That- we could go to jail! Prison! Death Row! We can’t steal from someone! Tell it no!”

The SQUIP rolled its eyes. “ **You wouldn’t get caught, Michael,** ” it attempted to reassure.

Michael shifted uncertainly. “I know! But how else are we supposed to get the money?” Michael sighed. “We definitely don't have $500.”

Jeremy shrugged. “I have $200 left over from when we thought the SQUIP cost six. That’s literally all I’ve got, though. Do we have another option?”

Michael frowned. “I don't know, maybe? I think I have, like, $100 saved up? But that still leaves us short two hundred.”

“So how long would it take to raise $200?” Jeremy wondered. “Like, five million years? That’s not gonna work. Maybe we should steal from the rich.”

Michael laughed. “You want try and pull a fuckin’ Robin hood so that we can buy some extinct Mountain Dew? How is that more legal than the offshore account thing?” He paused, eyes lighting up. “Wait, that's it! Rich! We could ask him!”

“I thought we weren’t telling anyone about this!” Jeremy exclaimed. “Rich would tell Jake, then he’d tell Jenna, and then everyone in New Jersey would know!”

“Yeah, maybe, but who else is going to believe that this shit is happening? Out of anyone, he's most likely to help! Plus you know he has the money! It's either this or SQUIP bank fraud.”

Jeremy weighed their options. Rich would be the one who would most likely believe their story, and if they could convince him to keep it a secret, they would be good. But they wouldn’t even have to tell anyone if they went with the SQUIP’s instant method. The guilt might drive Jeremy insane, though. He shrugged. “Guess we need to talk to Rich then.”

“ **Really? My way is quicker, and I prefer it over bringing that hot mess into the picture,** ” Michael heard the computer say, although by now its manifestation had disappeared.

'Yeah, well, fuck you. Now how the hell is this going to work once we have the money?’ Michael asked internally, not wanting to bother Jeremy further.

“ **That’s why I prefer my way, actually. I can transfer it over the internet. You’re going to have to open a bank account and deposit that money into it before you even think of transferring it anywhere. You really had to choose the difficult path, didn’t you? You would, too.** ” With that last remark, it appeared long enough to give Michael a once over, then disappeared again.

Michael grimaced and rolled his eyes. 'I have a bank account, dumbass! It's a student bank account. Works exactly the same. That should be fine, yeah? I can just put it in there and you can do your weird robot shit?’

“ **I’ve accessed your memories, Michael. I know you have a student bank account. I also took the time to read the terms and conditions that you glanced over. You really should read those, because international trade is forbidden on student accounts.** ”

Jeremy watched Michael stand in silence, an upset look on his face. “Michael, what’s it saying now? Something wrong?”

Michael's grimace deepened. “Yeah, it's annoying as fuck. But you already knew that. It's nothing, we can take care of it later. Let's just go… do something. Mario Kart or some shit. I need a break from this.” Michael chose to ignore the SQUIPs remark, instead moving to exit the kitchen.

“We’re not gonna text Rich now? I thought you wanted this to be over with. You already made us take a nap. School’s almost out anyway, he’d be free to talk about it.”

Michael paused in the doorway. “Yeah, I guess you're right. But, I don't have his number. Do you?” He raised an eyebrow at the other boy.

“You don’t? I thought we all exchanged numbers, like, three weeks ago. I have everyone’s number.” Jeremy reached into his pocket for his phone and pulled up his contact list. “See?”

Michael's eyebrows furrowed. “Oh shit, we did? I can't remember fuck all. Oh but you know who's number I do have?!” Michael reached into his pocket, pulling a a crumpled rectangle. “Fucking Junior Architect Goranski!” He laughed, waving the card teasingly. “Maybe I can get the money _and_ a fuck!”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Please refrain from doing that, especially when you’re me.” He opened up a new message with Rich. “So should I text him?” he asked, not giving Michael any more satisfaction with talking about the junior architect. 

Michael snorted. “Yeah, go ahead. Ask him who architect boy is, while you're at it. I liked his...dog.” 

“You liked his face.” Jeremy began typing out a text. 

J: ‘Hey Rich, me and Mike are in deep SQUIP shit and need your help. We can explain, but it’s complicated.’

J: ‘Oh, and is your brother studying architecture?’

R: 'Hey Dude! What's up?? What do you mean SQUIP shit, did something happen????’

R: 'And why do you want to know about my brother??’

Jeremy let Michael read the replies over his shoulder. “Should we tell him the whole story?” he questioned, typing out an answer for the second message Rich had sent. 

J: ‘Some guy with your last name and a dog gave Michael his phone number on some weird business card.’

Michael shrugged. “May as well.” it would probably be easiest to just tell him everything. They didn't need things any more complicated than they already were.

R: 'holy shit for real?? That's hilarious!’

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah, I’ll tell him once we find out if this was his brother.”

J: ‘So does it sound like him?’

R: 'you mean hitting on random gays in a park and giving them his business card? Yeah, sounds like Steven. Did Michael get anywhere with him??? He's the easiest guy in the world!!’

Jeremy laughed and showed Michael Rich’s response. “That was totally his brother, man! Jeez, you flirted with Rich’s brother.”

J: ‘Actually maybe? But that’s the thing.’

J: ‘Get this. We fuckin switched bodies.’

Jeremy decided to rip it off like a band-aid. 

R: 'no, seriously. What happened?’

“He doesn’t believe me,” Jeremy muttered, his thumbs going back to the phone keyboard. 

J: ‘That is what happened, dude. Your brother flirted with me, technically. Some purple Mountain Shit swapped us.’

Michael snorted. “Well, damn, would you at first?”

R: 'Mountain shit?? Wtf r u talking abt?? Can I come over after school? Maybe it'll be easier to discuss this in person.’

“He wants to come over,” Jeremy told Michael. “He’s got a point, texting can only accomplish so much. What do you say?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, that's reasonable. I'm sure my mom's won't mind. Just.. tell him to not make them think that we're going to have a fuckin threesome or something. Like… be chill.”

Jeremy’s spine straightened automatically at the sound of that word. He hoped Michael hadn’t noticed. He _hated_ that word now. “Y-yeah, right.”

J: ‘Yeah, come over to Michael’s, just don’t be too bi, or else his moms’ll think we’re being weird.’

R: ‘;)))) I can't make any promises!! I'll be there by 5’

Jeremy sighed and didn’t bother showing Michael Rich’s text before putting his phone away. “He’ll be here soon,” he said. He picked up his drink again and took a sip. “Dr. Pepper tastes different to you, it’s not ideal.” He put the cup back down. 

Michael scoffed. “Well, I happen to think it tastes really fuckin’ nice. By the way, you must be starving right now, yeah? Looks like I’m not gonna have to eat anything after all. You get to do the work for both of us!”

“Jesus Christ,” Jeremy muttered, waving Michael off and walking back to the living room where the pizzas were. “If I eat sausage on a pizza while I’m you, is that still breaking the Jewish rules?”

Michael shrugged, dropping down on the sofa. “No fuckin clue, man. That's your demon to deal with.” He grabbed the remote and began flipping through the channels idly.

“God’ll forgive me,” Jeremy told himself. “Plus, your body really wants this pizza.” He plopped down next to Michael and pulled the box closer to his lap. 

Michael laughed loudly. “You know pizza is one of my biggest weaknesses! It's like a cheesy fuckin marinara dream!” 

Jeremy rolled his eyes as he stuffed a piece into his mouth. “Yeah right,” he said around the food. Swallowing, he cleared his throat. “Do I really have to eat for the both of us?”

Michael raised an eyebrow, casting him a sideways glance. “I mean, you don't _have_ to, but you know what we would have to do.” Michael sighed.

“Right,” Jeremy said. He dropped the hand that was holding the pizza into his lap, looking down at the coffee table, though he didn’t really see it. “Right,” he whispered again to himself. The guilt was catching up with him. 

Michael turned to face him slightly in concern. “Hey, Jere, you good?” He asked, frowning slightly. 

Jeremy didn’t look up. His eyes unfocused even more, staring into nothingness. “I’m fine,” his words betrayed him. He wanted to say no, he needed to say how sorry he was, he needed to apologize for being so fucked up. Michael’s emotional dam had gotten to him; he couldn’t get out anything he wanted to. 

Michael scooted slightly closer, lightly dropping his hand on the other boys knee. “Are you sure?” He asked. Michael had known Jeremy for twelve years, he could tell that he was upset over something. He just wasn't sure what exactly it was.

“Yeah.” No. “I’m sure.” The opposite. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Maybe because he’d kissed his best friend for no reason other than he wanted to. Maybe because then he’d just blown it off like it was nothing when clearly it was something, to both of them. Maybe because he felt awful for the way he’d treated Michael, today and before. Maybe all of those things. Definitely all of those things. And more, guilt he couldn’t place a blame on, worry he couldn’t find the object of, pain that had no physical manifestation. And he’d said he was fine. 

Michael watched as Jeremy's face flickered with expressions of despair. He could tell talking wasn't going to get him anywhere, at least not right now. So Michael did the only thing he could think of. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around to other boy, hugging him tightly. It felt weird-- really weird-- to hug yourself, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. “It's okay.” He whispered reassuringly. “We're fine. _You're_ fine.”

Jeremy’s arms moved up to hug Michael back, and he didn’t think of how strange it was to hug himself. All he could think about was Michael, a sensation that had graced him earlier, right before he’d kissed him. He wasn’t going to let himself cry, but that was most likely the residual Michael left in his body. He hummed so his friend would know he’d heard him, but he couldn’t form words. They were fine? He was fine? Nothing about this was fine, nothing. He would dare Michael to list one thing that was fine, if he could make himself speak. 

Michael sighed as Jeremy remained tense under his arms. He pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “Hey, look at me.” He called, making the boy give him his full attention. “It's Okay. Take your time.” Michael didn't know what he was trying to say, or if it was even helping at all, but he continued regardless. “I'm right here, and I’m not going anywhere. No matter what.”

Jeremy pulled back further, only slightly. He mustered up his courage to speak again. “I-I’m the one who should be comforting _you_ ,” he said. “I hurt you, Michael. I-I toyed with your emotions and pretended nothing happened. That’s all I ever do. I only hurt you.”

Michael felt himself freeze as Jeremy spoke, caught off guard. Comforting him? _Toying_ with his emotions? That sounded an awful lot like a rejection. Michael gulped, avoiding Jeremy's eyes. “Yeah, well, that my fault, isn't it? That's what I get for--” he paused, the words sticking in his throat awkwardly.

Jeremy spoke again. “Look, I-I don’t know what’s going on. With me. I think we—” he was cut off by the doorbell ringing again. Rich must have arrived. This would have to wait. Which would mean it would hurt a lot more when the time finally came. “I- I’ll get it this time,” Jeremy said, scrambling to his feet and to the door. 

Rich was standing outside, Jeremy could see through the window. He was glad it was him and not a serial killer. Opening the door, he tried to make himself look less emotionally destroyed. 

Rich grinned at him from the porch. “Yo!”


	9. (please do not fuck the goranski brothers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rich makes his entrance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if our uploads are a bit spotty for the next couple days, thsaltydragon is away and has iffy wifi

Jeremy pushed Michael’s glasses up on his nose and stepped aside so Rich could come in. “Hey,” he said awkwardly. He still wasn’t quite used to being friends with Rich’s crowd; they intimidated him. 

“What's up, Mikey? Where's Jere-bear, he was texting me some weird shit.” Rich stated happily. Rich had been much more… open since the SQUIP incident. Nicer. Or at least, as nice as he could be while still being himself.

Jeremy took a deep breath. “No, that’s it. Like I said. I _am_ Jeremy. That’s the problem.” If he were himself, that would have come out stuttery and broken, but thank god for Michael’s voice. 

Rich’s eyebrows practically shot into his hairline. “What the hell are you talking about? Is this some kind of freaky sex thing? Should I be calling Jake because, like, I’m totally down but not without my main bitch.”

“What the f- No!” Jeremy exclaimed. “How would this even be a sex thing? What the hell? _No!_ ” He put a hand on his face. “I’m actually Jeremy,” he tried again. “Just in Michael’s body.” Saying it out loud was strange. 

Rich shrugged nonchalantly. “I don't know what kinky shit you guys are into.” He then crossed his arms and eyed him suspiciously. “So… you're trying to tell me that some weird fanfiction type shit happened and now you're in each other's bodies? Prove it.”

“You read fanfiction?” Jeremy questioned, then shook his head. “How do you want us to prove it, man? It’s hard enough just telling you. Some weird ass Mountain Dew did this to us.” He tried to think of a way to confirm their story, but none of his ideas would be enough to convince Rich. 

Rich's eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I don't know, tell me something only the Tall ass would know! Um… shit, you guys are always together, I don't know if that will really work..”

“Yeah,” Jeremy muttered, “I thought of that too.” Wait. “I don’t know if this’ll convince you, but in the bathroom that day I asked you how you could talk to people while you...you know. And you said it was confidence. And- And you didn’t wash your hands!”

Rich's eyes lit up. “Holy shit, maybe you are telling the truth. But that's still not convincing enough. Hm. Oh, how about this!” He paused as his lisp became more prominent due to excitement. “Where’s Jeremy-- or, _Michael_ I guess.”

Jeremy stood confused. “He’s in the den, what are you planning?” He didn’t like the look in Rich’s eyes. 

Rich grinned wickedly. “Well, if you're _really_ not Michael, then you wouldn't mind if I asked Jeremy about our little… conversation we had, right?” He smirked confidently.

“What are you talking about, Rich? What conversation?” Jeremy’s wariness turned into more confusion. He still didn’t like the smug expression on the shorter boy’s face. 

Rich's eyes narrowed. “Take me to the skinny bitch, let's see if you remember then.” Rich waited for the half filipino to lead him to the den.

Jeremy coughed. “Okay,” he said, voice wavering. He made a ‘follow me’ motion with his hand and walked through the kitchen to the living room where Michael was sitting. “There’s Michael.” He pointed for emphasis. 

Michael looked up at the sound of footsteps. “Hey, Sup, did Jer give you the low down?” He laughed awkwardly, feeling unsure.

Rich looked between the boys hesitantly. He hummed in thought as he made his way over to where Michael was seated on the couch. “So… You're Michael?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed.

When Michael nodded, Rich smirked evilly before leaning down to whisper something in his ear. As he spoke, Michael's eyes widened in alarm. “Rich!” He exclaimed, pushing him back slightly. “You promised you wouldn't fucking say anything!”

Rich gaped at him. “Holy Shit! It really is you!”

Jeremy looked back and forth between the two. “What just happened?” he asked. “I’m totally out of the loop here.” He decided if Rich told him what was going on, he’d offer him some of the pizza that was left. 

“Nothing!” Michael yelped, a little too quickly. “It's nothing!” He shook his head violently as if to dismiss the thought. Rich laughed loudly, turning back to Jeremy. 

“Shit, I guess you were telling the truth! So, what the fuck, how did this happen again? And why the hell am I here?”

Jeremy would have to ask Michael about this gossip later. “I told you, some shitty grape soda did this. And...and we need $200.”

Rich pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why the _fuck_ do you need $200? What the hell?”

Michael stood up, patting Rich on the shoulder. “It's a long story, dude. But, um, basically we need to buy some weird ass extinct Mountain Dew so that the Floppy Dick will fix us.” 

Rich sighed and shook his head. “Damn, you two never take a day off, huh? I can get you the money. _But_ you owe me one. Both of you.” He pointed to each of them with a teasing look. “Now, about my brother..” he trailed off, glancing at Jeremy.

Jeremy went on the defensive. “That was all Michael! He flirted back!” He pointed accusingly at his best friend. “I just liked his dog.” And he’d told him that they were together. And the guy had still given Michael his number. If he “needed something new” as he put it. 

Rich raised an eyebrow at Michael. “You flirted back?” 

Michael shrugged, smiling crookedly. “Hey, I’ll take what I can get. People never hit on me when I’m _me_. It's all about the twink bod, y’know?”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, hiding a smile whose origin he wasn’t sure of. “Please stop,” he said. “So you said you could get us the money? Just like that?!”

Rich grinned at him. “Well, I mean, sure! This seems like it might be kinda important, y’know? But don't think I’m giving it to you for free, I’m serious about those favors. I plan to put them to good use.” He winked suggestively at Jeremy, making Michael laugh.

Jeremy blushed. “What does that even mean, dude?” He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to that. He was surprised that Rich had agreed so quickly. 

Rich laughed loudly a wicked grin returning to his face. “Guess we’ll find out when I use them. The possibilities are endless!” He wiggled his eyebrows at him, wandering over to collapse on the couch. “So, like, is someone trying to fuck Steven or not?”

Jeremy shot a pointed look at Michael, keeping it until the other boy made eye contact with him. “I hope not,” he grumbled. “Is that a regular thing your brother does? Hit up random twinks in a park with his dog?” Again with the things Michael usually said. Jeremy had no Michael Filter. It was like it needed to come out. 

Michael snorted at the bitter look Jeremy shot him, plopping back down onto the couch with Rich, carelessly laying his torso across the shorter boys lap. 

Rich wrapped his arms around Michael and rested his head on his Shoulder. Not in a gay way--- well, kind of in a gay way--- but it was more of a friendly action than anything else. Rich had always been a very physically affectionate person. “Bro, listen, that dog is like a twink _magnet_. He probably only got it because he knew it would help him get laid easier. He’s the biggest fuck boy alive.” Rich could remember innumerable occasions of his brother bringing home his… _dates_. It never really bothered him, except for that one time when he had tried to make a move on Jake.

“That’s _great_ ,” said Jeremy. “A fuck boy gave _me_ his number. I’m on a fuck boy’s radar, Michael. Thanks a lot.” He felt his face get hot as Rich laid his head on Michael’s shoulder. It was the same feeling that had encompassed him when Steven had flirted with his best friend. Was it anger, jealousy? He was starting to think it was jealousy. 

Michael and Rich shared a look before Michael scoffed. “Jerm, buddy, trust me. You have most _definitely_ always been on fuck boys’ radars. Have you seen yourself?” He gave his--Jeremy’s-- body a once over. “Like, I’m surprised you haven't gotten more dude’s numbers.”

“Don’t look at my body like that, man,” Jeremy whined. He was embarrassed that Michael was saying these things in front of Rich. “I’m not a flirty person, people don’t give numbers to people who aren’t involved.” He sat himself on the chair beside the couch. Changing the topic to avoid further embarrassment, he looked at Rich. “So, how’s Jake?” 

Rich perked up at the mention of his boyfriend. “Oh, he’s great! Last week I convinced him to wear a-- ow!”

Michael elbowed Rich in the stomach to cut him off quickly. “If this is a gross sex story then we don't want to hear it. Thanks, but no thanks.” Michael sighed, rolling his eyes.

Rich laughed loudly, giving Michael a teasing kiss on the cheek and winking at him. “Your loss, hot stuff.”

Jeremy gawked. “Please refrain from kissing my face, thanks!” He was even redder than before. “And you didn’t care about personal information earlier when you told me all about your sex position, Michael Mell.” That felt good—maybe he’d caught Michael red handed. Hypocrisy in action. 

Michael pouted at Jeremy, crossing his arms defensively. “Hey, me saying that I’m a bottom is different from getting a whole in depth tale about our other friends sexcapades. I’d rather not hear about Rich sucking Jake's dick behind the bleachers, would you?” Michael shivered at the memory of the unnecessarily detailed story Rich had told him once. 

Rich smirked and shrugged, looking at Jeremy. “Also, what's up with the ban on kisses? Are you feeling left out or something? Come over here and I’ll give you some of the Rich Bitch lovin’ too.”

Jeremy made a face. “I am _not_ coming within four feet of you. I don’t want any ‘lovin’’. No thanks.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and scooted back into the chair. “Don’t come near me with those cooties. Just give me $200.”

Rich snorted, leaning back comfortably. “Whatever you say, home boy. But hey, Mikey, if you ever _do_ want to get involved in some of the Goranski's famous sexcapades, just hit me up. I happen to think your normal gay self is _highly_ fuckable as is.”

“You have a _boyfriend_!” Jeremy argued, the jealous feeling returning instantly. He tightened his grip on his knees in an attempt to stop himself from saying anything he’d regret. Who did Rich think he was? He was certainly more flirtatious than usual today. Jeremy didn’t like it. 

Rich smirked once again. “I can talk Jake into a three-way. It's easy. He knows I’m only emotionally gay for him.” He winked at Jeremy, giving him a thumbs up. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he thinks Michael is hot, too.”

Jeremy scoffed. “Who doesn’t? That doesn’t mean you can whisk him away for some weird fantasy!” He turned toward Michael. “Maybe we should let the SQUIP steal the money from that billionaire,” he grumbled. 

Michael, who had a light blush on his face due to the unexpected compliments, turned to Jeremy with an astonished look. “What, one mention of fucking and suddenly you're all for the crime scene?” Rich looked between them with an expression of both confusion and intrigue. 

“Billionaire?” He asked, eyebrows quirked. “The fuck?” He shook his head, turning back to Jeremy. “Anyway, I think it's more _Michael's_ decision if he wants to be whisked away by all 5 foot 5 inches of pure Goranski. It's not like you’re his _boyfriend_.” Rich's eyes narrowed in challenge, the smirk never leaving his face. 

Michael's blush increased, eyes widening slightly. “Rich…” he muttered in warning, avoiding Jeremy's gaze pointedly. Michael knew what Rich was trying to do, but there no way it would work, right?

Jeremy bolted upright. “Fuck you, Rich. Fuck the Goranski brothers. Both of you. I’d be damn _lucky_ to be Michael’s boyfriend. You gotta throw that in my face? That’s a new low.” His fists were balled tightly, and he again was thankful for Michael’s smooth voice instead of his own crackling one. He would have been proud of himself for standing up to Rich if this had been before the school year’s events. But now he felt guilty for it—Rich was a nice guy behind the SQUIP. The guilt was overridden by whatever had taken him over, however. 

Rich's smirk turned into one of satisfaction as he unwrapped his arms from Michael, instead moving them to link behind his head in a relaxed pose. “Bingo. That's exactly what I was looking for.” He muttered happily, mostly to himself.

In his lap, Michael sat staring at Jeremy in a state of shock, his face on fire. “Uhh.. Huh?” He stuttered out lamely. His breath had stuttered in his chest and his heart was beating loudly in his ears. That couldn't possibly mean..? 

Jeremy’s angered expression didn’t falter, but he was suddenly aware of the blood rushing in his ears. He blinked once, twice, still staring at Rich. “What are you talking about?” he spat. 

Suddenly, a voice sounded in Michael’s head. “ **This is good,** ” the SQUIP said, his form remaining unseen. “ **Don’t push it. You’re doing well, Michael. He’s realizing the truth. I told you he would.** ”

Michael gulped, still frozen in surprise. Doing well? He hadn't done fuck all. Rich was just amazing at making people jealous.

Rich held Jeremy's gaze easily. “Nothing, it just seems to me like _someone_ may be a little bit jealous.. wonder why that is?” Rich paused, shifting out from under Michael until he was able to get to his feet. He approached Jeremy cautiously-- so as not to upset him further-- until he could lean up and whisper in his ear. “Maybe you should think on that, yeah?” He stepped back, patting Jeremy’s cheek lightly with a grin. 

“I’ll bring the money to school tomorrow, I think it's about time for me to go.” He said, looking between the boys. “Jake and I have a… _date_ to get to.” He winked at Michael, turning to make his leave. “See you nerds at school.” He waved, heading back out the way he came-- which once again just left Michael and Jeremy.

Jeremy stood sputtering and watching the door Rich had just walked out of. He was jealous because it was his body, wasn’t he? That was it, right? What else could it be? He couldn’t quite remember what he’d just said in the heat of the moment. Was it rude? He felt like it was rude. 

The SQUIP’s voice came back to Michael. “ **Let this happen naturally, Michael,** ” it said. “ **It’s only a matter of time. Don’t push him. I wouldn’t lie to you.** ” It paused. “ **No, earlier was not a lie. It was a glitch in my programming due to multiple hosts. I am not a liar. Go to school tomorrow to get the cash from Rich. Unless you’d rather do it my way.** ”

Michael gulped again, looking down at his fidgeting hands. Since when was he the type of person to fidget? And what the did the SQUIP mean, naturally? Was he supposed to just say nothing? Fuck that, he wasn't about to just sit through this awkward ass silence. 

“Um..” he started timidly, not looking up. “Y- You know, there's no reason to be upset-- he meant _my_ body, n-not yours. So…if--if that's what you're angry about... it's fine. Right? I mean-- Uh…” he trailed off, unsure as to if he should breach the subject of Jeremy stating that he would be lucky to date Michael. 

Jeremy’s head swirled. “Sure,” he muttered. “It’s all fine and dandy. All of this is totally fine. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m _you_! You’re me! That’s normal! We- I don’t even _know_ how many times we’ve kissed today! That’s normal too, right? Totally! Best friends do that all the time! They always act like this! They always think they’re completely straight until some supernatural event shows them _maybe they have feelings for the other_!” He threw his hands up, taking the glasses off of his nose and rubbing his face. 

Michael gaped at him. “F- feelings..?” He whispered, hope leaking into his voice. “Y- you-- Did you just---” Michael couldn't speak through the sudden lump in his throat. He brought his hands up to cover the bottom half of his face. His cheeks felt like they were about to combust any second. Was this really happening? Like, this _wasn't_ some kind of fucked up lucid dream, right?

Jeremy dragged his hands down his face and put the glasses back on. “I don’t _know_ , man,” he said weakly. “I- I just don’t know. Give me time.” He didn’t want a barrage of questions from Michael right now. He definitely didn’t want the barrage of emotions from his own heart right now. The day had been the most taxing the two of them had had in a very long time. They needed time to relax, if only just a small amount. Jeremy needed things to feel somewhat normal for once today. “Let’s just play video games or something.” He’d blown Michael off—again. He really hoped he understood.


	10. (Please Do Not Fuck Breakfast)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just....filler honestly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need a sprite tbh  
> -thesaltydragon

Michael, in fact, did understand. He understood all too well. The first time Jeremy had dismissed the possible romantic intentions behind his actions, he had been gutted. Even when the other boy had apologized and Michael told him it was okay; Michael knew that he really hadn't been okay at all. But this time, with Jeremy admitting that there could possibly be _something_ , Michael's head was left spinning. He needed time as well, this was all way too sudden. It had been one damn day.

“Y-yeah. That sounds.. really fuckin good.” He agreed, stumbling to his feet. “Let's go play some Overcooked or some shit.” He quickly grabbed the pizza box in case they got hungry and brushed past Jeremy without making eye contact. Michael desperately needed a video game break.

Jeremy stood, still trying to catch his breath and attempting not to overthink things again. He was glad Michael agreed with him--but why did it hurt so bad? He didn’t understand the pain he was feeling, why he was feeling it, or even where it was. As Michael walked past him without looking him in the eye, the pain exponentially increased. It might be the death of him.

He couldn’t dwell on it now, however, because they’d decided on a video game break. Before Michael disappeared around the corner, Jeremy finally moved his feet to follow him. It was a familiar action, following Michael to his basement with the intention of playing video games, but it felt foreign, and Jeremy supposed it would have felt that way no matter whose body he was in.

Once Michael was in his room, he tossed the pizza box carelessly on his bed before moving to pull their bean bags into their designated place for when they played together. 

He moved over to the TV, flipping through the stacks of video games that was lined up next to it. “What do you want to play?” He asked idly, searching for something that would be enough to take their minds off of the past twenty four hours.

“I-I don’t know,” Jeremy forced himself to say, his voice holding a smidge of the crackling that he was used to. “What do we have the least progress on?” If they picked a game they’d just started, there would be more content to distract them from the previous day.

Michael hummed thoughtfully. “Beyond Two Souls, maybe? We had only just gotten to where she was a kid before we had to stop. I really wanted to see if I could freak her mom out.” he snorted, grinning at the memory.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Don’t freak her mom out, Michael,” he said, falling into the normality of the situation at last. “It could make the rest of the game harder or something. Just do what you need to.” He sighed. “I wanted to be the ghost guy anyway.”

Michael chuckled and stuck his tongue out at Jeremy. “Boo! You're no fun.” He teased as he moved to insert the disk into his PlayStation. “Fine, you can be Aiden but _only_ if you admit the way it's pronounced.”

“Wh- We all know they’re saying it wrong in the game, dude! You have to admit the game is wrong!” Honestly, who says Aiden with a long “I” sound?

Michael snorted, shaking his head. “You're hopeless. Whatever. I heard that as the girl you get to romance some hot native American guy later, anyway. Also I'm pretty sure you can sleep with that CIA hoe. What was his name again? Ryan?”

“I dunno, maybe,” Jeremy shrugged. “You can sleep with all the guys and I’ll fuck shit up.” Poetic.

“Just how I like it!” Michael joked without thinking. Oops, that didn't really help distract them from their emotional issues right now. He quickly grabbed the controllers, tossing one to Jeremy before throwing himself onto his bean bag. “Let's get to it!” He proclaimed, hoping Jeremy wouldn't dwell on his previous statement too much.

Jeremy, fortunately, didn’t dwell on it. He caught his controller and turned it on, falling back into the other bean bag on the floor. He couldn’t help but notice how differently Michael’s body sat in the chair than his own--how the mesh hugged his sides and how he sat lower than he was used to. He was pulled from his thoughts as the game booted up. “You know, I think there’s a party coming up. Should Aiden destroy the house?”

Michael scoffed casting Jeremy a sideways glance. “Is that even a question? Hell fuckin yeah he should! Traumatise those bitches!” 

“I knew you’d say that,” Jeremy laughed, the back of his mind wondering if he just knew Michael that well, or if it was because he was Michael now. He hoped it was the former. “Of course I’m gonna fuck that party up.”

“Hell _yes_ ”

\---------

Michael groaned loudly, tossing his controller on the ground. “Man, Fuck that weird ass condenser!” He sighed, stretching his body. “Damn, how long have we been playing?” He pulled out his phone to check the time. “Oh shit, it's 8:30! My moms have been home for two hours!”

“It’s that late already?” Jeremy asked, surprised they’d spent that much time on this game. That had been the plan, however, so it was satisfying to know it worked. “They didn’t even come down to say they were back?”

Michael sighed, puffing his cheeks out. “Well… they _probably_ think we're banging, remember?” His cheeks flushed a light pink as he spoke.

Jeremy looked down. “Right…” He didn’t know whether he was glad or upset about that. “Well, my dad said I could stay however long, and he asked me how school was, so he doesn’t know we skipped.” He checked his phone for another message, but there wasn’t one. “That’s it, I guess. So it looks like we’re doing well?” He turned it into a question at the very end.

Michael nodded, standing up. “Yeah.” He paused with an unsure expression on his face. “If we go upstairs.. we’re gonna have to switch. So I don't know if you want to do that or just go to bed really early.”

“We still don’t know how long that lasts,” Jeremy pointed out. That could be useful information for school tomorrow. “Depends on what you want to do, bro.” He figured letting Michael decide would be the safest bet. He’d hurt his friend too often today.

Michael gulped, blush deepening. “Well, I mean, you haven't gotten to shower or anything yet, so I guess…” he trailed off, anxiety knotting his stomach once again. He didn't want to push.

Jeremy sighed. “I had to eat for the both of us,” he said, thinking out loud. “I’m too tired to care. You can shower for both of us too.” He sighed again, his fingers playing with the controller still in his hands, though it had disconnected.

Michael's eyes widened. “What?!” Did Jeremy not realize that in order to shower, you couldn't wear _clothes_? “Um, J- Jer, buddy, no offense b-but I don't think I _can_ \--” he said, heart beating erratically. 

Jeremy yawned and looked at Michael, using Michael’s own pouty face against him. “I’m too tired,” he whined. “I’ll care later. I want to sleep.” Did he? He thought he did. It was strange, like most things were today. He didn’t want Michael showering in his body, but he also just...began to think that maybe it wasn’t a big deal. They’d known each other for twelve years, almost thirteen. What’s one shower? God, maybe he was exhausted.

Michael felt his heart melt slightly at the sleepy expression Jeremy gave him. Which was kinda weird, since it was technically his own sleepy expression. “Y-you know what? How about we j-just go to sleep and worry about showers in the morning.” He gulped, moving over to the bed to grab the discarded pizza box and put it on the table instead. “I think we could both use some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed. “Just go change into my pjs. They’re in my bag.” He pointed to his overnight bag in the corner of the room. “You’ll like them, they’re soft.” He yawned again and took Michael’s glasses off, setting them on the table beside the bed. Suddenly he did feel extremely tired, perhaps the events of the day were taking a delayed toll on him.

Michael nodded, grabbing the bag and shuffling into the bathroom to change. He was glad they were finally able to sleep, today had been a mess. He hoped tomorrow would go at least a little smoother. 

Jeremy stood up and stretched, his back popping like it had when he woke up that morning. He yawned once more and sat on the bed, waiting for Michael to return. He tried not to think about his feelings, the SQUIP, what Rich could have said to Michael, or anything except that he was glad they’d survived the day. 

Michael yawned as he exited the bathroom, now dressed in a light tee shirt and flannel sleeping pants. He tossed Jeremy’s backpack back into the corner and shuffled over to the bed. He threw himself onto it with a sigh, looking up at Jeremy. He didn't move to wrap his arms around the other boy like he usually would, instead waiting to see what he chose to do on his own.

Jeremy yawned once more and lay back on the bed next to Michael. His friend was looking at him almost expectantly. Was he supposed to be doing something? His eyes moved from Michael’s to the blankets. That must be it. He was waiting for Jeremy to pull the covers onto the both of them. He leaned up and grabbed them, falling back down onto the pillow, the blankets poofing over both boys. As he situated himself for sleeping, he put his arm around Michael’s middle. It felt right. “G’night,” he said through another yawn, using his other hand to pull the blanket over his face in a farewell.

Michael's breath hitched as Jeremy grabbed him. “Night.” He whispered, still watching Jeremy's sleepy expression. As the other boy covered his face, Michael shifted ever so slightly closer until he was pressed up against the other boy’s body. He sighed happily, closing his eyes. He didn't know what was going on with them-- their relationship was in a weird place right now-- but for now he was content with this. He could deal with the messy emotions tomorrow.

\-----------

Jeremy found himself waking up as the smell of _something_ filled the basement through the vents in the ceiling. Opening his eyes, he yawned and looked around. The blanket had come off of his face, and he’d somehow managed to get the whole thing stolen from him by Michael, who was curled up in it. It didn’t keep Jeremy’s arm from coming out from around his friend, however. The other boy was breathing softly, and the sound was somewhat comforting. Jeremy squinted, trying to read the blurry numbers on Michael’s alarm clock. They read 6:32. It was a school day, so that meant he had to wake Michael up.

He leaned over slightly, shaking his friend with the arm that had stayed around him all night. “Mike,” he whispered. “We have to go to school, man. I think your moms made us breakfast.” He shook the boy again. 

Michael groaned, curling into the blanket more tightly. “Mm- fuck breakfast.” He kept his eyes closed tightly, willing himself to fall back into the blissful sleep he was being pulled from.

Jeremy shook him harder. “ _I’m_ hungry,” he complained. “It’s your body’s fault. Wake the hell up. I’m not going upstairs without you.”

Michael huffed, pouting at him with closed eyes. “'f you’re so awake then wake your body up yourself.” He muttered, sleepily puckering his lips in an imitation of a kiss. He was still in a half-asleep state-- too drowsy to realize what he was saying.

“Michael, c’mon, you don’t really want to do that.” Jeremy thought it through anyway. He could wake himself up, why couldn’t he? And then Michael would be awake too, since his body was starving. But did they really want to test their limits this early? They should, since they didn’t know how long these switches lasted. All the signs pointed to them needing to switch now, especially when Jeremy remembered he still needed to shower. He didn’t let Michael answer him--he’d changed his mind. He sighed and leaned down, psyching himself up for what he needed to do.

Michael cracked an eye open slightly, looking up at Jeremy's anxious expression. He smirked slightly, closing his eyes again and waiting. He liked when Jeremy took the lead. It made it feel… less one-sided. Like there was a chance. Like _he_ had a chance.

Jeremy’s lips collided with Michael’s for a shorter period of time than he’d intended due to the overwhelming exhaustion that overtook Jeremy as soon as they switched. His head fell back and he groaned. “How did you make me this tired?” he whined, pulling the blanket closer to himself, eyes still closed tightly.

Michael pulled back, laughing loudly. “It's your body! How should I know?” He hopped out of bed, suddenly energized. “Fuck how the hell did I say fuck breakfast I'm starving.” Michael grabbed his glasses, sliding them on.

Jeremy groaned again. “Just go upstairs, I’ll be right behind you.” He reluctantly pushed the blankets off of himself and sat up slowly, holding his head due to the return of the familiar headache caused by the SQUIP. It meant the computer was active, but choosing not to show itself. “Go,” he repeated, gesturing with his hand. “I’m coming.” He yawned again.

Michael nodded, bounding up the stairs. “Don't forget your pills and shit. I'll save you some toast.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeremy grumbled, his mind still fazed from the sleep. He slowly got up, the cold concrete of the basement floor agitating his feet. He grabbed his bag and got his pill counter out, shaking the day’s medicine into his palm and throwing both his bag and the container back on the ground. He balled the pills into his fist and stretched his arms over his head, satisfied at the pop it caused. He didn’t know what Michael did to make his body so stiff, but it felt nice to limber it up again.

He forced himself up the stairs agonizingly slow, making sure to hold his medicine carefully so he wouldn’t drop it. He had to take two of the pills with food, so he’d gotten into the habit of just taking all three at the same time. He rounded the corner to see the Mells’ kitchen table loaded with breakfast foods.

Michael settled in his usual place at the table as he muttered a soft “hey!” To each of his moms. They smiled at each other knowingly, but said nothing. At least, until Jeremy wandered into the kitchen looking ruffled and sleepy. 

“Oh, Jeremy!” Maria exclaimed, a teasing lilt to her voice. “We didn't know you stayed over.” She gave Michael a knowing look, a smirk gracing her lips.

Jeremy blinked slowly, the sleep still in his eyes. “Uh, what?” he mumbled. “Michael didn’t ask?” He looked at his friend in confusion.

Michael’s other mother, Jasmine, said nothing. Instead, she watched the encounter with a much more prevalent smirk on her face than on her wife’s. She seemed to know--or assume--more than Maria did.

Michael, who had had a mouth full of pancake, choked. He coughed loudly, trying to clear his throat. “Ah!-” he coughed out. “I- I forgot! We-” Cough. “Fell asleep.” 

Maria laughed, patting Michael on the head. “Yeah, I know. We went down to check on you two and you were curled up together like puppies.” She grinned, glancing between her son and Jeremy. “Jas tells me there's been… some _developments_ between you two.”

Jasmine nodded, sipping her coffee with a grin on her face to replace the sly smirk that had been there moments ago.

Jeremy suddenly felt a lot more awake than he was. “Dev..developments?” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Wh- Oh!” He remembered his and Michael’s cover story. “R-right.” He nodded, almost too enthusiastically. “Yes.” 

Michael stared at his plate, a blush gracing his cheeks. “Mami, please.” He muttered, pleading for her to drop it. This wasn't really the time. Maria’s smile softened as she ruffled Michael's hair. 

“Don't worry. We support you two. Just… be safe, yeah?” Michael's blush increased heavily. “Mom!” He exclaimed in shock.

Jasmine put her mug down. “We bought you some things yesterday while we were out after work,” she said, her eyebrows wiggling. “I think you know what I mean.”

Jeremy felt his face become extremely hot. He was in desperate need of a change in this topic. “C-can I have some toast?” he tried, eyeing the bread next to Michael’s plate. “I need to take my medicine.” He hoped that would take the conversation away from...whatever it was turning into.

Maria laughed again, nodding. “Of course, honey! You know you can eat whatever you want. We have to go get ready for work, make sure Michael isn't late for school!” She cast him a sly wink before sauntering off to their bedroom. 

Jeremy stuttered. “Th-thanks.” He watched her leave, Jasmine not far behind, also winking at the two boys left in the kitchen. When they were gone, Jeremy took a seat next to Michael. “Geez,” he mumbled. “That was weird.” He grabbed a piece of toast.

“Yeah.” Michael muttered, blush still on his face. What a way to start to day. Hopefully things would be less awkward when they got to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your kudos and comments are helping our depression and anxiety  
> one comment=one prayer


	11. (please do not fuck awkwardness)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a little short!

The two boys pulled into the parking lot of their school thirty minutes before their first classes began. Michael pulled his keys out of the ignition, sitting back in his seat with a sigh. 

“It's been, like, two hours. What if we switch back soon and we’re in different classes?” He ran a hand through his hair stressfully, pushing his glasses up his nose as they began to slip down.

Jeremy fidgeted with the buttons on his cardigan. “I have a presentation today, remember? What are we supposed to do? Unless you know copious amounts of information about the economic impact of the Cold War on international trade, I think I’m ready to die.” He looked up at Michael with worry in his eyes. 

Michael groaned, dropping his head on the steering wheel. “Yeah, but you have the SQUIP, I have a makeup test today, and I don't exactly have a super computer to help you if we get switched in the middle of that.” He paused, sitting back up and rubbing his forehead. “The only thing I can think of is to switch again really quick so that we can, like… reset the time? If that's how it works?”

Jeremy nodded slowly. “That makes sense. Better do it now so—OW!” He grabbed his head. “Fuck— _now_?” 

The voice of the SQUIP filled his ears, but the image of Keanu Reeves was nowhere to be seen. “ **That isn’t a good idea, Jeremy,** ” it said condescendingly. “ **Each of these little switch-backs don’t last the same amount of time.** ”

Jeremy groaned loudly. “Of fucking course they don’t,” he complained aloud. “Michael, it says that won’t work.” He groaned again. 

Michael huffed, irritation from the memory of dealing with the annoying computer leaking back into him. “Why the hell not? And tell it to fuck off, it knows it's not supposed to fuck with you.”

Jeremy sighed and the SQUIP interrupted what he was about to say. 

“ **Tell _Michael_ that I can hear everything he says and that I am only trying to help.** ”

Jeremy retorted quickly. “I am not a messenger pigeon.” He turned back toward Michael. “Apparently they last different amounts of time.”

Michael's eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And it didn't think to tell us that _before_? What the fuck! What are we supposed to do?” 

“ **This is new information for all of us. I was not programmed with these facts. I am learning as you are. I suggest you...wing it.** ”

Jeremy yelped. “Wing it?!” He decided speaking aloud was best for now, instead of mentally as he used to. It gave him less of the feeling that the computer was in his brain. Plus, he wasn’t about to give it the satisfaction of doing what it wanted—like in the X-Men.

The SQUIP’s voice was lower. “ **Oh, please. I thought we dispelled that notion long ago, Jeremy.** ”

Jeremy ignored it. He stared at Michael, eyes pleading. “Wing it,” he repeated in confirmation. 

“Wing it!?” Michael yelped, looking annoyed. “That's the best it's got?” He groaned, running his hand through his hair once again. “We're so fucked.”

Jeremy exhaled shakily. “We’ve always been fucked. We’re _advanced_ fucked now.” He sat in his own misery for a few moments. “Could Rich help? At all? I don’t know what he could do, but he knows about this, so…” he trailed off, already planning on ditching the idea. 

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don't know what he _could_ do. Is he in your class with your presentation? Maybe we could give him a heads up, just in case. So, like, if something happens he’ll know.” He shrugged, unsure.

Jeremy thought for a second. “He is! He sits in the back! We could—I could tell him if things get fishy, he needs to start a distraction or something. He’d do that, right?”

Michael nods, feeling at least slightly more at ease. “Yes, good. We can slip out of our classes and meet up at the bathroom or something. That should work, right?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah! Is there anyone in your class you have the test in that can help too?” He felt like they could do the school day easily if this worked. He hoped it would. 

Michael perked up. “Yes! Jake! We can get Rich to talk to him! If anyone in this school knows how to make a commotion it's Jake and Rich!”

“So we’re bringing Jake into this,” Jeremy contemplated aloud. “That’s fine, I guess, but he’d better not tell anyone else. Rich either. This is too much. If everyone finds out, that’s—it’s too much attention for me.” He knew how that sounded, hating attention but being in theatre. Michael would understand, though. 

Michael snorted, opening the car door. “Yeah, I feel that, Dude. We’ll talk to them about it.” 

“We can get Rich to bring Jake with him when he gives us the money.” Jeremy smiled. Finally, they had a somewhat plausible plan. Something to follow, like a script. 

Michael turned to Jeremy with a raised eyebrow. “Why wait? Rich's locker is right next to mine, and I know for a fact that him and Jake have a damn daily ritual and making out right in front of them.” Michael shivered. He had seen way more making out from those two than he would have liked.

“Right,” Jeremy muttered. “Must have deleted that trauma from my memory.” He shivered as well. “I guess that works, too. You always were better at this stuff than me.”

Michael smiled at him, exiting the vehicle and pausing to glance at Jeremy once again. “I try.” He winked before slamming his door closed. Today was bound to be interesting, to say the least.

Jeremy scrambled out of the car with his backpack on one shoulder. “Guess we’re doing this, then, huh?” he said, a little nervously, as if he wanted to get back in the car and drive away. 

Michael nodded, giving him a thumbs up. “It's now or never, I guess.” He paused, glancing at the time on his phone. “We still have fifteen minutes before class, we better hurry if we want to tell them.”

Jeremy stretched his arm to put his backpack on properly and sighed. “Let’s go, then,” he said. He started walking toward the school’s double doors. 

Michael and Jeremy shuffled their way through the bustling hallway until they finally reached Michael's locker. As expected, Rich had Jake pressed up against it. They were all over each other, which was not unusual. Michael cleared his throat loudly, trying to get their attention. It didn't work.

Jake had his hands up Rich’s shirt, and though Jeremy couldn’t see what was happening in there—not that he wanted to—the way they were moving was enough to make him feel uncomfortable even further. The taller boy continued kissing his boyfriend, tongue and all, while Jeremy and Michael stood helplessly. Jake managed to somehow wedge his knee in between Rich’s legs before Jeremy finally had to step in. 

“ _Please_ stop,” he said, pulling Rich back from Jake—or, attempting to. He’d pretty much stayed stuck to him like glue. It had worked, however; they had their attention. 

Michael sighed, waving awkwardly now that they knew him and Jeremy were, in fact, there. “Hey. We need to talk.” 

Rich snorted, grinning at the boys. “Oh no, does that mean the three-way is off?” He teased, sending a wink to Michael. 

“You didn’t tell me anything about a three-way,” Jake said disappointedly. “You leaving me out?”

Jeremy coughed. “There’s no three-way, oh my God.” He felt his hands becoming sweaty with nerves. “It’s about the other thing.”

“Other thing?” Jake inquired. “Sounds festive.”

Rich laughed, patting Jake's cheek lightly. “Don't worry about it, babe. It's a long story. Also, of course you're in the three-way, I would never leave my main bitch out. You know that.” He untangled himself from the taller boy, turning to fully face to other two. “Mikey, what's up with the sudden aversion to our three-way, anyway, Did Jere-Bear finally buck up and figure it out?” He asked teasingly, looking at Jeremy. 

Michael hummed in confusion. “I didn't say anything about the three way, what do you- oh.” Michael cut himself off lamely as he realized that Rich didn't know they could switch temporarily. Right. That's what they were here to talk to him about.

Jake laughed. “Rich, the pale one’s Jeremy and the red jacket one’s Michael. You must be confused.” He hit his head lightly with the palm of his hand in a ‘duh’ gesture. 

Jeremy stepped forward. “He’s right, actually,” he admitted. “We found a...temporary fix? But it doesn’t last a definite amount of time.” He hadn’t planned on explaining how they figured it out or that they’d known before Rich had visited them the day before. He turned and motioned for Michael to help him explain. 

Michael sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… Apparently if we… _kiss_ it switches us for a while.” He shrugged, face tinting vaguely red. 

Rich laughed in disbelief. “Holy shit!” He exclaimed. “That really _is_ some fanfiction shit!” He chuckled, linking his hand with Jake's idly. “Anyway, I have your money for the shit, whatever it was you guys needed.” He pulled an envelope out of his pocket with his free hand, holding it out to Jeremy.

Jeremy shot a look at Michael. He didn’t think they’d be telling them _how_ they could switch back. He felt his head get warm and his hands become even slicker. He wiped his hand on Michael’s hoodie before grabbing the envelope. “Thanks,” he mumbled, embarrassed. 

Jake blinked. “Anyone gonna fill me in on this? Kissing? Money? Fanfiction? What’s going on, dudes?” He looked down at them all in confusion. 

Michael laughed anxiously. “Um, about that--- we need you guys’ help. In class.” He shifted on his feet, unsure of how to explain to Jake in such a short period of time.

Jeremy nodded, pocketing the money. “Yeah, if you guys see either of us acting a little weird, create a distraction, okay?” He paused. “Please.”

Jake tightened his grip on Rich’s hand. “Sure, I’m all about that,” he said. “But seriously, what’s going on? Some kind of sex thing?”

Jeremy sputtered. “No! Why do you people always think it’s a sex thing?!”

Rich snickered, turning to Jake and pulling him down slightly to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll tell you later, hon. Don't worry about it. It's some weird ass shit.” He paused. “Probably _is_ a sex thing, though.” He whispered.

Jake pouted down at Rich, but didn’t reply, as he was just enjoying the kiss he’d just gotten. 

Jeremy turned back to Michael. “So that’s that, right?” he said. “Plan’s a go?”

Michael nodded. “I guess so.” He confirmed. “By the way…” Michael paused, shifting slightly closer to Jeremy and meeting his eyes anxiously. “We do need to talk about stuff _eventually_ , you know?” He muttered, keeping his voice down. “Preferably sooner rather than later.”

Jeremy felt his body become cold and rigid. “S-soon,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry. I need more time.” He averted his gaze from Michael’s eyes to stare at a locker across the hall. “I thought you’d understand,” he mumbled even quieter. 

Michael sighed sadly, looking away. “Of course.” He muttered. “I do. I always do.” He would wait till the end of the world if Jeremy asked him to. That didn't make it any easier, however.

Jeremy looked back at Michael, wishing he didn’t see Rich and Jake resuming their...whatever from the corner of his eye. “Class starts soon,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll see you at lunch. Or before, if this wears off.”

Michael nodded, turning away. “Yeah.” He whispered. “See ya.” He shuffled away quickly, heading to his first class of the day. Damn. He thought they had been making progress, that they wouldn't have to be awkward like this anymore. Fuck. Fuck awkwardness. He guessed that they would settle things eventually.


	12. (Please Do Not Fuck Sprinklers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah this happened

They had almost made is through the entire period. Michael only had three questions left on his test, and it had been going well. The period had _almost_ ended when Michael's head suddenly started spinning violently, an intense nauseous feeling crashing over him in a wave. He slammed his eyes shut in an attempt to gather himself, only to open them and find that he was in a completely different classroom. Shit. 

Even worse, he was standing in front of the class, looking out over the rest of the bored looking teens. Dammit! Of course Jeremy chose to go last on his damn presentation!

\------------

Jeremy wanted to choose an earlier presentation time, but like always, he couldn’t make himself volunteer. With every kid going before him, the chances of switching back during his own presentation increased. The SQUIP had told him that.

He didn’t feel any different, though, so when he was the last one in the front, he assumed it wouldn’t be happening soon. 

He started his slideshow awfully--he didn’t know how to use the clicker, and when he turned on the laser pointer, it shook all over the place with his hands. He’d skipped a slide and had to go back to read it, and he pronounced two words wrong. He was only halfway through when he started feeling even more nauseous than he already was. He closed his eyes to force himself to breathe, opening them to see that he was sitting down in front of a math test.

\------

Michael quickly scanned the room until his eyes landed on Rich. The short boy was sitting in his seat watching diligently as Michael made eye contact. Rich raised an eyebrow in question. Michael gave him a small nod followed by a pleading look. He desperately hoped the other boy would understand.

Rich very much understood.

A wicked grin split across his face as he stood up suddenly, creating a loud racket as his binder slipped off of his desk and clattered to the ground. He excitedly hopped up on to the seat of the desk, a loud yell escaping him. “Hey! This is lame as shit! Who wants me to strip!”

Michael gaped. What the fuck, Rich? _This_ was his distraction? He didn't have to look so damn excited about it, either.

Rich smirked as at least five people's hands shot up. “Hells Yes!” He exclaimed.

The teacher stood up, stuttering in alarm. “R- Richard! Sit Down!” She yelped, arms flailing in distress. Rich did not sit down.

Rich, instead, made direct eye contact with the teacher as he sensually pulled off his shirt. He winked and laughed deviously. “No way! No one stops a Goranski! Why would you want to?” He rolled his hips, mussing his hair to look more wild than usual. The other students were either cheering or laughing as the teachers eyes widened.

“Richard!” She exclaimed. “Dear me!” She sat back down, burying her face in her hands. She didn't get paid enough for this.

Michael figured now was his chance to bolt, since everyone's eyes were currently glued to Rich, who was currently performing a sexual strip tease happily. He ran over to the door, pulling it open quickly before slipping out into the hallway. He carefully closed the door behind him so as not to make too much noise before shuffling off in the direction of the bathroom. His mind lingered on Rich's choice of “distraction”. 

What the fuck, Richard?

\---------

Jeremy’s mind raced as he tried to find Jake in the classroom without looking like he was trying to cheat. Rich told Jake the whole story, right? He hoped so.

His eyes fell on Jake, who had been staring at him. The worry in Jeremy’s eyes must have been enough to tell the other boy what happened, because before he could know it, Jake was on his way to the bathroom with a pass. 

What was he doing? Jeremy was supposed to get to the bathroom, not Jake. Was there a miscommunication? Maybe Jake didn’t know and just had to use the bathroom. 

Jeremy glanced down at the test on his desk. He didn’t know how to do any of this stuff. There were symbols he’d never seen. He could only hope Jake was doing something useful. 

Suddenly, an alarm sounded. The sprinklers on the ceiling started spraying sporadically. The teacher rose quickly from his desk and ushered everyone out. 

The whole school was running through the hallway toward the exits. Jeremy was swept by the crowd until he found Jake beside the door. He grabbed the taller boy so he wouldn’t get dragged outside. 

“Hey, I pulled the fire alarm!” Jake said, his hair soaking wet from the sprinklers and a grin on his face. 

“I-“ Jeremy started, but Jake interrupted. 

“Thank me later! Get to the bathroom with your boyfriend.” With that, he followed the crowd out the door. 

Jeremy didn’t have a chance to retort, but he was grateful for Jake’s quick thinking. It was over the top, but it did the trick. As the sea of kids thinned, Jeremy pushed his way to his and Michael’s meeting place.

————

Michael was sitting on the bathroom counter, legs swinging in boredom, when the fire alarm went off. “What the hell?” He muttered, hopping down. He shuffled over the door, pushing it open just a crack so that he could see what was happening. Students and teachers were rushing out to the main exit of the school. Michael was considering whether he needed to leave as well when a soaked Rich clad only in a pair of boxers bolted past the door, whooping loudly.

Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Fuckin’ Rich. Before he could do anything else, the bathroom door was being pushed open as a distressed looking boy shoved his way in. 

Michael stumbled back so that he wouldn't get hit by the door, raising an eyebrow. It was Jeremy, looking anxious. “Woah, where’s the fire, buddy?” He joked lamely. 

Jeremy’s—Michael’s—hair was flat with the water it had absorbed. He tried pushing it aside, but gave up. “There’s no fire. Jake pulled the alarm. That was his distraction.” He peeked through the bathroom door to see if anyone else was in the hall. “What’d Rich do?”

Michael grimaced. “He go stood on his desk and started stripping.” He mumbled. He paused before looking back up at Jeremy. “Wait, Jake pulled the fucking fire alarm?! Isn't that, like, dangerous or something?”

Jeremy shrugged. “I guess. But he looked pretty excited about it, so I’d guess he wanted to do it anyway.” He tried again to fix the hair that had fallen limp in front of his eyes. “Man, fuck sprinklers.” He gave up once again. “Wait, Rich started _what_?”

Michael looked vaguely sad as he nodded. “Yeah. He stripped. Like, full on hips and everything strip tease. People were throwing money. It was pretty fucked up. But he looked pretty excited to do it, so I guess it's all good?” Michael wasn't sure what to say in regards to the show Rich had decided to put on. “He made really uncomfortable eye contact with the teacher while he did it, too.”

“What the fuck?” Jeremy couldn’t believe Rich would do that. Sure, if any of them were going to, it’d be him, but really? And people had enjoyed it? “I really don’t want to think about that right now.” He hopped up to sit next to Michael. “My presentation was going not good anyway.”

Michael shrugged. “My test wasn't so bad, but I guess I'll probably have to redo it now, huh?” Damn, it was probably completely soaked from the sprinklers. Michael was glad the bathroom didn't have any. He didn't really want to be sad and soaked like Jeremy was. Michael hummed thoughtfully. “Actually, Rich was pretty good at it, to be honest.” Michael was only slightly ashamed to admit how Rich seemed to know what he was doing. Although, he really did not want to think about how Rich acquired the skill of performing a fucking strip tease. He shivered uncomfortably.

Jeremy shifted. “I said I didn’t want to think about that,” he replied. “Of course you liked it, you have the hots for his brother too.” Jeremy knew that wasn’t quite true, but it was close enough. They’d flirted. “So what are we gonna do? Rich and Jake aren’t in any of my classes for the rest of the day. We need some kind of plan. I didn’t think about this.”

Michael sighed heavily. “Fuck if I know, dude.This whole situation is weird ass hell.” Michael leaned his head on Jeremy's shoulder tiredly. “Man, Fuck school. And fuck strip teases. Fuck school strip teases.” He grumbled bitterly. “I didn't have the hots for his brother… I liked his dog.” Michael poked Jeremy in the side teasingly.

Jeremy swatted Michael’s hand away. “He had a nice dog, you jerk. I like dogs.” He sighed. “Should we just stay like this then? Can we risk swapping back at a random time?”

Michael shrugged again. “I mean, it won't hurt to switch, will it? It may last the rest of the day for all we know..” he trailed off. Michael was pointedly ignoring the nagging feeling that he was only trying to convince Jeremy to switch because he wanted to kiss him more. “Has the SQUIP said anything?”

“Besides being annoying? No,” Jeremy grumbled. “Try to get it to be useful if you want, but I don’t think it’s gonna help.”

Michael hummed, lifting his head from Jeremy's shoulder and shifting the face him. “Well…” he started awkwardly. “I guess we should- uh-” Michael was not doing a good job at being smooth.

Jeremy didn’t seem to notice Michael was trying to say anything. “I mean, it didn’t say anything about the fire alarm. I wish it would have. Then maybe I wouldn’t be so wet. It can predict the future, you know. Kinda. Maybe it could have told me before the switch wore off.” He shrugged. “Wait, were you saying something?”

Michael snorted, feeling comforted by Jeremy's obliviousness. What a dumbass. A cute dumbass. Michael shook his head, placing a hand on Jeremy's cheek. “Nope, wasn't saying anything.” Before Jeremy could respond Michael brought his lips crashing down on Jeremy's, the water from the sprinklers making him shiver.

Jeremy blinked and pushed Michael away once he was himself again. “You’re freezing cold, dude,” he complained. “You need to dry off.” He didn’t want to think about kissing Michael, not yet. They’d done it a lot now, but it was still awkward for Jeremy. He was kissing his own face, of course it was awkward. And, right, that Michael was his best friend. That made it awkward, too. Of course. 

Michael gave him a crooked grin. “At least now you're dry.” He laughed, sitting back. “I wonder if they'll let us go home and change clothes… Rich doesn't even have any clothes right now. Last I saw he was wet and in his underwear..” Michael pondered idly. “I still can't believe Jake pulled the damn fire alarm.”

“He enjoyed it, I think,” Jeremy said. “Rich is a fucking mess.” He looked at Michael’s soaking wet hoodie. “I don’t think they’ll send us home.”

Michael hummed. “Maybe we should set a fire for real. I bet then they would.” He snickered, thinking about how ridiculous both Jake and Rich are. “Man, no wonder those two were such close friends- they're perfect for each other.” He snorted, not thinking about his words. “Those two are fuckin inseparable. They really do love each other, huh?” Michael couldn't help but let his thoughts drift back to relationships. It seemed to be a subject that plagued him lately.

“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed. “They’re cute though. Even if they make out all over campus. It’s gross but in a goals kind of way, y’know?” He hopped down from the cabinet. “Do you think they’ll get married? I think they will. Like, right out of high school.”

Michael chuckled. “Fuck, I wouldn't be surprised if they both just left class one day and got married. They're impulsive as hell. As we have seen.” He pulled his hoodie off over his head, scrambling to make sure his shirt didn't get pulled up with it and reveal his stomach. Once the hoodie was off, he wrung out the excess water into the sink before tying it securely around his waist. 

“Yeah, that wouldn’t surprise any of us. Remember when Rich got a tattoo during class? He just disappeared and came back with one. That was wild.” Jeremy watched Michael wring his hoodie out. “Sorry about that,” he said. “It won’t ruin it, will it?”

Michael shook his head. “Nah, it's fine. It just needs time to dry.” He paused, glancing at the bathroom door. “Should we, like, go outside or..?”

Before Jeremy could respond, the door burst open loudly as Jake rushed in, a damp and unclothed Rich on his back. “Yo! You guys done making kissy face in here or what?” Rich exclaimed, peeking at them from over Jake's shoulder.

Jeremy gasped loudly at the scene. There wasn’t anything about it that seemed normal. 

Jake laughed. “Did it work? You guys back to yourselves?”

So Rich had told Jake everything after all. “Yeah,” Jeremy answered. 

Jake boosted Rich up further on his back to keep him from slipping. “Cool!”

Michael laughed slightly. “Rich, what the _fuck_ was with the stripping?”

Rich beamed, giving him a thumbs up. “You wanted a distraction, I gave you one! Besides, there's no height requirements to be a stripper. I gotta get my practice in.” He winked suggestively. “Plus I've always wanted to do it in school, anyway.” 

“Wish I could have seen it, babe,” Jake said. “Could you recreate it later?”

Jeremy interrupted their moment. “That’s fucked up, Rich. But thanks for helping. We needed it.”

Rich laughed again. “Of course dude, any time! Fucked up is my middle name. Now, about that recreation later-” 

Michael cut him off. “Yeah, ok, that's enough. Let's get out of here so I can go change clothes. I think I have some extra shit in my car from last time I went over to Jeremy’s place.” He ushered the group out of the bathroom and into the puddle filled hallway. This was gonna be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey if u guys like our writing you can check out the newest collab we did! It was us two and a friend, it's DEH with the ship of Evan/Jared/Connor ,, it's called Sincerely Trees, be sure to check it out if you're interested!


	13. (please do not fuck hormones)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vote in the comments down below is u think the SQUIP needs to stop being an interrupting ass so that Jeremy can finally reach his final form and admit he's gay for Mikey

Rich and Jake had rejoined the group of students ushered back inside when there was no fire to be found. 

Jeremy waited for Michael to get his dry clothes out of his car. While he did this, he had time to think, and surprisingly, the SQUIP didn’t interrupt him. 

Michael wanted to talk. About them. Soon. Jeremy wasn’t sure he was ready, or if he’d ever be ready. He didn’t know who he was anymore.

Was he the straight guy who was just really close to his gay best friend? Or was he something else? Did he like Michael? _Did he like Michael?_

“Damn.” Michael yelped. He was trying to hurriedly change shirts before anyone saw him stripping in the parking lot- that was Rich’s thing, not his-- but had only managed to get tangled in the fabric as he rushed. He realized that his headphone cord had somehow gotten twisted into it, leaving him trapped with the dry shirt halfway down his body and covering his face. What a mess.

Hearing Michael in distress called Jeremy out of his thoughts prematurely. “Dude?” he asked. “You need help?”

Michael whined pitifully. “Yes.” He groaned. “I'm stuck.” As much he didn't want Jeremy seeing his stomach and chubby rolls, he would rather that to going back inside trapped in shirt hell.

Jeremy turned around to face Michael. He put his hands on the other boy’s torso—not noticing or caring that it was bare skin—in an attempt to stop him from writhing and becoming more stuck. 

“Dude, stand still,” he demanded. “It’s like quicksand, just stop moving. I’ll help.”

Michael reflexively jumped at the cold hands on his waist, a small yelp escaping him. He was glad the shirt was covering his face, that way Jeremy couldn't see the blush. “Just- ah- help!” Michael huffed, stilling his struggled movements. He didn't want to fuck up his headphone cord, he already broke them enough as it is. 

“Your headphones are all tangled. Hold your arm up.” Jeremy didn’t wait for Michael to comply, but instead lifted the other boy’s arm for him. “This is gonna be weird, but just bear with me.” He reached his hand into Michael’s sleeve. 

Michael screeched at the sudden intrusion, a shiver running down his spin as Jeremy's hand ghosted over his bare skin. “D-Damn, Jerm, you couldn't give a guy a warning? Never knew you were such a dominant type.” He choked out a laugh. What the fuck is going on anymore? Michael's half naked in the school parking lot and Jeremy had his hand up his shirt. In other circumstances this situation could've been rather kinky. What a shame.

“You did tell me I’m a top yesterday,” Jeremy grumbled, frustrated at the struggle he had to endure to get Michael’s cord out of his sleeve. “Try taking it off now.”

Michael did as instructed, roughly tugging it over his head. He sighed when he was finally free, quickly pulling on his spare shirt. “What a mess.” He muttered, turning to Jeremy. He had not, however, taken into account how close Jeremy would be standing after assisting him with his shirt prison. He ended up stood almost nose to nose with the shorter boy, his breath suddenly knocked from his lungs as their eyes met. 

“I-” Jeremy’s eyes were wide and he could feel his blood trying to get to his brain in a feeble attempt to find out what to do here. His eyes _might_ have glanced down at Michael’s lips, but only for a millisecond, of course. He knew Michael could feel his soft and fast breaths on his face, but he couldn’t seem to back away. 

Michael felt very conflicted, on one hand he knew Jeremy was still trying to process everything. But on the other, Jeremy had some really beautiful eyes. And some _really_ soft lips. He couldn't stop himself from edging ever so slightly closer, not breaking eye contact.

Jeremy let Michael near him, his eyes somehow becoming wider with every breath they shared. Was it now, or was it never? Jeremy had kissed Michael yesterday, not to switch them back, but because he’d...wanted to? Maybe he wanted to again. He could let this happen, just to see if he really wanted it. He _would_ let this happen. He made his decision. 

Jeremy lifted his head, tilting it ever so slightly, knowing Michael may have decreased their distance, but he’d be the one to close it. He looked down at Michael’s lips one more time. 

“ **Jeremy,** ” the SQUIP’s voice startled the boy in question, causing him to jump away from Michael quickly. 

“ **Oh,** ” it continued, its blue form appearing behind Michael. “ **You weren’t in the middle of something, were you?** ” 

Jeremy stared daggers into the projection. He didn’t bother communicating in the SQUIP-approved method—no, he wanted Michael to know why their moment couldn’t happen. “Do you _think_?” he shouted. “You knew that! What the fuck are you here for? Why now?”

The SQUIP merely scoffed. “ **Checking in,** ” it said. “ **Tell Michael I said hello.** ”

“The hell I will! You seriously didn’t have a fucking reason for showing up this time?!” 

“ **Hm. Pushy. No, I have a reason.** ” It walked closer. “ **The soda you boys want is in serious peril of someone else purchasing it in the next, hm, three hours?** ”

“ _What_?!” Jeremy looked at Michael. “We have to get that Mountain Dew, _now_.”

Michael felt like bucket of ice water had been poured over his head. What the fuck. “What the fuck?” 

“Someone else is buying it! How do we—we need to get that money in your bank account!” Jeremy yelled. 

“ **Ah, but I told you before,** ” Keanu butted in, “ **your student accounts can’t make overseas transactions. It’s in the terms of service. Which everyone should read.** ” 

“Scratch that, then,” Jeremy mumbled. “We need to open a new bank account!”

Michael groaned, rushing to the driver's side door. “Of all the _fucking_ times!” He grumbled, yanking the door open. “Are you coming or staying?” He asked, shooting Jeremy a questioning glance. 

“We’re skipping _again_?” Jeremy knew it was their only option, but he couldn’t afford to get his dad angry with him after just having gotten back on his good side for taking the car to a party. 

“You don't have to come, that's what I'm asking. I can go by myself if you don't want to miss.” Michael slid into the front seat, head swimming with repressed anger towards that damn bitch ass fuck of a SQUIP. They had been so close! What an ass!

Jeremy opened the passenger side door. “I’m not letting you go anywhere alone right now,” he said. “I also don’t know if we’ll switch back and I’ll end up behind the wheel. That’s— no thanks.” He sighed and got into the seat. “I’m coming with you.”

Michael nodded, pulling on his seatbelt roughly. Fuck Hormones. Now he was all pent up and moody. Damn. He hated driving when he was frustrated. He just wanted to get stoned in his basement, was that so much to ask?

\----------

The drive to the bank was uneventful, for the most part. Michael hadn't gotten any road rage, but he had almost ran a red light because he had been lost in his thoughts. 

“Guess we have to open a whole damn account. How annoying.” He sighed, doing his best to fix his hair in the rearview mirror. It had finally dried, but now it was messy and tangled due to the lack of a brush. “I look like a sad homeless boy.” He pouted, pushing his glasses up. His shirt was all wrinkly and sad, his pants were still wet, and his hair was a mess. What a day.

“Maybe they won’t charge you for opening an account if you look sad enough,” Jeremy said. He was tired. Of everything. This damn day, yesterday, everything was too much. He needed a good sleep. Maybe three days’ worth. Preferably three days’ worth. Minimum. 

Michael laughed softly. “I fuckin’hope so. By the way, do you know the hell to set up a bank account, by chance?” He glanced over at Jeremy in question.

Jeremy shrugged. “Tell ‘em you want a bank account?”

Michael sighed. “Thanks. Come on, let's go.” He hopped out of the car, heading to the entrance of the bank. Guess now is as good a time as any to figure out how this works.

\----------

The pair exited the bank two hours later. “Well that took absolutely forever.” Michael groaned.

Jeremy sighed. “Who knew there was that much work? God, I hope we’re not too late.”

Michael nodded in agreement. “We did our part- Now it's the SQUIPs turn. If he fucks it up, I’ll fuck _it_ up.

Jeremy rolled his eyes, but not at Michael. He was just sick of it all, as much as he was tired. “Well?” he said, directed at the computer in question. 

“ **I have access to the new account,** ” the SQUIP’s voice came from nowhere. “ **The drinks are still available. Would you like me to purchase them for you?** ”

“Wh—Yes!! Hurry the fuck up!” Jeremy yelled. 

“ **Consider it done.** ”

“I think it did it,” Jeremy guessed. 

Michael sighed. “Great. Well, school is, like, lame as hell, but we did miss all of yesterday. Should we go back? Or just, like… go home?” Michael didn't know which he would rather, honestly. 

“You really want to walk in late to class and cause a scene?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “We’re already dirty criminals. Just skip again. Who cares. My dad’ll find out, but you’ll sneak upstairs when I’m grounded anyway.”

Michael winked at him. “Can't keep me away!” He laughed. “So, my place or yours?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter. My dad’s not home like he was yesterday. So whichever you wanna drive to.” Jeremy looked out the window at the sky. The sky didn’t have to kiss his best friend to switch back to being himself for indefinite amount of time. The sky just chilled. The sky didn’t need that drama. It had puffy clouds and pretty colors instead of strange feelings and evil computers. The sky was infinite, Jeremy wasn’t. 

Michael smiled softly at Jeremy's wistful expression. “Okay.” He whispered so as not to disturb him. He felt a tug at his heart. Shit. He was in so fucking deep. What the hell. Why the fuck was Jeremiah Heere so damn lovable? Why did he have to be so cute? And funny. And nice. And _perfect_. 

Michael was _so fucked_.

Jeremy kept looking at the sky for the whole ride. He watched clouds move, birds fly, and kept track of the sun as the car changed directions at every turn. He was looking for a sign. Something that would tell him what to do. Half of him was grateful that the SQUIP didn’t say anything, but the other half needed it to. He wanted to know what was going on. Jeremy needed to know who he was. And what exactly Michael was to him. 

Michael took them to Jeremy’s house. He pulled into the driveway, putting the car in park and turning to Jeremy. “Don't really feel like dealing with any more Mom innuendos, y’know?” He explained, shutting the car off. 

“I get it,” Jeremy said, finally looking away from the window. “That was...uncomfortable at best.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and unlocked the door. “So what now?”

Michael shrugged. “Well, we can either make out or watch a lame horror movie on Netflix. It's up to you, man.” He got out of the car before Jeremy could respond, stretching his arms out above his head.

Jeremy really wasn’t sure he heard the first part correctly, but he was definitely not about to ask. “I dunno,” he said, getting out, too. “Is sleeping off the table? I know I was rude about you wanting a nap yesterday, but, damn...fuck, man.”

Michael snorted loudly. “That's the biggest fucking mood. You don't even have to ask, bro, I am _always_ down for a nap.”

“Thank god,” Jeremy sighed. “I think I really need one. I haven’t even been you that long today and I’m exhausted like you always are after school. Damn.” He yawned. “At least we can rest easy knowing that Mountain Dew is coming.”

“Yeah, what can I say? It's the Michael Mood.I hope the school just assumed we perished in the fake fire or something.” Michael didn't especially want his Moms questioning him about why he left school in the middle of the day. Michael didn't realize how tired he was until now. Fuck, he really _was_ down for a nap. Maybe when they woke up things wouldn't be so messy. Maybe. Probably not.


	14. (Please Do Not Fuck Naps)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s short, sorry guys! You’ll know why by the end! Next one’ll be much longer!

The boys made their way up to Jeremy’s bedroom-- Jeremy immediately changing into a pair of flannel pajama pants and Michael switching out his vaguely damp jeans for a pair of sweatpants. Luckily, Michael had a drawer in Jeremy's dresser that was full of assorted clothes he had left behind. It came in handle for times like this. The boys climbed into Jeremy's bed tiredly, Jeremy rolling himself into the blankets snugly whilst Michael shifted to pull the curtains closed so that they had at least a semblance of darkness. 

“Night-Night, nerd. Don't let the bed SQUIPs bite.” Michael teased, kissing Jeremy on the cheek as though he were a mother tucking in her child. The joke was kind of thrown off, however, as Michael wrapped his arms tightly around Jeremy's midsection, pulling the boy’s back up against his chest.

The last thing Jeremy heard was ‘SQUIPs’. Almost instantly he fell asleep. He didn’t feel Michael pull him closer, but before he lay down, he knew it would happen. As he knew, Michael was a cuddler. 

Jeremy never really saw himself as the little spoon. Of course, he was smaller than most people, stature wise. However, he didn’t like the feeling of being trapped. Like he couldn’t move. Mixed with the anxiety of ‘if I move, they’ll be angry’, it wasn’t good. Especially after the SQUIP, Jeremy liked feeling in control. If something was restricting his movement, he’d be extremely uncomfortable and anxious. 

But not with Michael. He’d known Michael for twelve years, almost thirteen. He knew he was safe with Michael. That’s why he crawled into bed knowing he’d be the object of Michael’s squeezes. It didn’t bother him. 

He’d be glad, when he woke up, that he fell asleep so quickly. If he’d lay awake for even a minute more, his mind would have worked against him. He’d never be able to sleep if all he could think about was Michael, and if Michael _really_ liked him, and if he really liked Michael. 

He truly didn’t want to ruin their friendship.

\------------

Michael was woken up some time later, by the sound of Jeremy's bedroom door being opened.

“Son! Hey, I saw Michael's car outside. Is he staying over? I can order a pizza!” 

Shit. Jeremy’s dad. Michael tried to sit up but couldn't. He was being held down by someone's arms. His own arms. Shit times two. He looked up the where Mr. Heere was standing in the doorway, smiling awkwardly. 

“Uh, y-yeah. I think so? That sounds fine Mr- Uh, Dad.” Michael stuttered out, blushing slightly at his hiccup. Jeremy’s dad, luckily, did not seem to notice. He simply gave the boy an Army salute before closing the door and going back downstairs-- presumably to order the pizza. Damn, pizza two nights in a row? What a life.

Jeremy fidgeted in his sleep at the sounds. He pulled Michael closer subconsciously. The warmth put him deeper into the sleep he’d almost come out of. 

Michael rolled over to face Jeremy, looking at-- his-- sleeping face. Well.. What Jeremy wasn't aware of was fine, right? He closed his eyes, leaning up to peck Jeremy on the lips. Except, he didn't really think it through, so now Michael was asleep and Jeremy was suddenly awake. Oops.

Jeremy blinked. How long had he been awake? He felt disoriented. He supposed the switch hadn’t worn off, yet, but he also could have sworn he remembered waking up as Michael and taking his glasses off. Maybe that was a dream. He didn’t remember, though, turning around to face Michael. He must have been deeper in sleep than he’d realized. Should he wake Michael up? Jeremy’s dad would be there soon, perhaps it’d be best to wake him. 

Jeremy pulled his arm up over the blanket and poked Michael on the face several times. “Hey,” he whispered. “My dad’s probably gonna be here any minute. Wake up.”

Michael shifted tiredly, pulling Jeremy closer and burying his face in the other boy’s hair. “Mm- 's already here. 's fine.” He mumbled, not opening his eyes.

Jeremy continued poking him, but didn’t bother shoving him away from his hair. “Dude, he’s already here? Did you talk to him? What happened?”

Michael sighed. “He jus’ asked 'f I was stayin.” Michael, when tired, did _not_ know what it meant to filter himself and what he said. “I had to call him dad.” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried his best to block out the soft light streaming through the curtains.

Jeremy processed the information. He was slow, but not an idiot. “You had to what? But _I’m_ me. You’re not me. You wouldn’t have to call him that unless you were me.” Did that mean—Had Michael kissed him _in his sleep_ to switch them back?

Suddenly, Michael felt very awake. “Uhh.” He mumbled, body tensing. Shit.

“Michael?” Jeremy waited for a response. He made eye contact with Michael’s instantly wide ones. 

Michael coughed, pulling back from Jeremy and sitting up. “Um, hey, would you look at that! My mom is calling, turns out, uhh- it's actually my curfew? I have to go.” Michael scrambled off of the bed quickly.

Jeremy grabbed Michael’s sleeve. “No, Mike,” he said. “It’s only five. And we’re not going anywhere alone, remember? This is almost over. Just—I’ll forget about this if you stay.” He knew he wouldn’t actually forget. He knew it would eat at the back of his mind. But he really needed Michael to stay with him. Especially now. 

Michael grimaced. Why the fuck did he even do it? What had he been thinking? What the hell. “I-” he felt anxious. “Just- ah.. yeah. Ok.” He felt a nervous blush rise in his cheeks. He felt like a child who had been caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

Jeremy averted his gaze. “I really don’t want to be alone during this, man,” he admitted. “It’s scary, I know you think so, too. And the SQUIP’s always either annoying as hell or horrifyingly silent, and I think I’m going insane.”

Michael frowned sadly. “I know.” He sat back down on the bed again, not meeting Jeremy's eyes. “I know.” He whispered again.

Jeremy took a deep breath. “Did my dad say anything else?” he asked, attempting to shift the topic to comply with his promise. 

“He said he's getting a pizza. Looks like we're going two for two with pizza for dinner.” He laughed a bit. “Maybe this time I’ll actually get to have some.”

Jeremy couldn’t hold back a chuckle as well. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m doing the chewing for both of us again tonight.” He felt comfortable with how easily their serious conversation had turned humorous. To him, it meant Michael was trustworthy, and it had for years. 

Michael grinned at Jeremy softly, slipping into his own thoughts. “Hey, how long until that stuff gets here, anyway? For five hundred it better be pretty fucking soon.”

“I dunno,” Jeremy said. “But I think—”

“ **Estimated time of delivery: Friday at 3:02 pm.** ”

“Great,” Jeremy mumbled, a little put off by the interruption and again, lack of Keanu Reeves to glare at. “Friday.”

“ **That is with express shipping, by the way.** ”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything back. He really wasn’t feeling the SQUIP love right now. 

That reminded him. 

“Michael, can’t I deactivate this thing now?” he pondered, not waiting for a response to the day he’d told Michael the soda would arrive.

Michael's eyes widened, his blood running cold. “Oh.” He gulped. “Um, Well. Y-” Michael cut himself off. What was he supposed to do? Could they just get rid of it now? Technically, Michael’s deal would have to be over if the thing were off. And he wouldn't have to tell Jeremy what a jackass deal he had made to begin with. It's not like the SQUIP could stop them. “Yeah.” He muttered, “But the red is at my place, isn't it?” Did he give Jeremy a bottle to keep with him that morning? He had definitely intended to do so, but his mind was still groggy from the nap. Fuck naps. No wait, he loved naps. Not fuck naps. Sorry, naps. Michael wouldn't ever disrespect you again.

“Oh, you’re right. Damn. Later then?” Jeremy had been given a supply, weeks ago, but his father had thrown it out before Jeremy could tell him the fact that it was old is what made it cool. Of course he couldn’t tell his dad the truth. But now he’d have to wait. The rest of their stock was in Michael’s fridge. 

“Yeah. I feel like we should probably be more urgent about this. I mean, last time it didn't really go well when it knew you wanted to deactivate it.”

“Yeah, it’s angry now, actually. I think. My headache is back. God, should we just go to your place now?”

Michael nodded quickly. “That sounds like a good plan.” He hopped up, grabbing his glasses off of the bedside table and slipping them on. 

Jeremy sighed. “So we can tell my dad we’re just going to get some of your stuff and then we’ll be back before the pizza’s here. Perfect, I think.” He turned his body and put his feet on the ground. He sat there for a minute. An actual minute. 

“Michael?” he said, voice cracking like it usually did—not a fan of that returning. “I can’t get up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	15. (please do not fuck the SQUIP)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yikes™

Michael jolted, turning back to Jeremy. “Fuck.” He froze, unsure of what to do. It had to be the SQUIP, right? Could he just carry Jeremy? Does he switch with him so that he can talk to the SQUIP?

Jeremy’s face contorted with fear. “I can’t move, Michael,” he whispered. He was trapped again, in his own body, like on Halloween in Jake’s parents’ room. Then, against his will, he felt his mouth close. He felt his hands press on his thighs and push himself to his feet. He stood in front of Michael, but it wasn’t _him_.

Michael's eyes shone with fear and concern. “W- What do I do? Is- Fuck! What do I _do_!?”

Jeremy opened his mouth, but the SQUIP was the one who spoke. Through him. “ **Will you hush?** ” Then, hands were on Michael’s face, lips on his. 

Michael’s eyes were wide, he was paralyzed with surprise. He pushed Jeremy-- Now in his body-- away. “What the fuck!?” Michael went to move, but found himself unable. His limbs seemed to be frozen in place. “Jeremy?!” 

Jeremy was breathing heavily. “Michael, that wasn’t me!” he yelled. “I swear!”

The SQUIP released Michael’s muscles with a sharp shock and appeared—still as leather-clad Jeremy—between Michael and the real Jeremy. 

“ **We have a _deal_** ,” it spat. 

Michael grimaced and grit his teeth. “Jeremy, you go to my place and get the stuff. I need to _deal_ with this pest.” He didn't take his eyes off of the phantom figure as he spoke. “You’ll have to walk, sorry.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened. “Walk? Alone? It’s getting dark—” He cut himself off when he caught the glint in Michael’s eyes, which weren’t pointed toward him, but the wall next to him. “I can do that.” He grabbed Michael’s shoes from where the other boy had set them for their nap. 

“Thanks. I’ll keep your body safe. I need to have a _talk_ with this ass of a SQUIP.” Michael's glare sharpened. This 'deal’ was a piece of shit. He didn't need it.

Jeremy nodded and ran out the door. He didn’t bother saying anything to his father as he sprinted through the kitchen and outside. 

“ **Who’s the one breaking his promise now, Michael?** ” the SQUIP said, pushing itself off the wall. Its voice sounded almost whiny. 

Michael scoffed. “Oh, Fuck you! You haven't done _shit_. All that you have managed to do is interrupt and get in the way! Why the hell should I keep you here when you haven't kept your end of the deal, anyway?”

“ **I’ve been tasked with helping Jeremy make his move, and that’s exactly what I’m doing! I have kept up my end, actually.** ” The glowing Jeremy walked closer to Michael. “ **Have you forgotten what’s at stake here?** ”

Michael held his ground. “Make his move? And what fucking move is that, exactly? All he’s done is _fucking avoid the goddamn_ -” Michael cut himself off with a huff. He was being unfair to Jeremy. The boy had a lot to think about, Michael knew that. It wasn't his fault that he hadn't managed to figure everything out yet. “Just what _is_ at stake here, might I ask? Because from what I can see, I've been doing just fine on my own.”

The SQUIP’s computerized voice changed into a more human, nontechnical undertoned one. More like Jeremy’s. “ **Your relationship with me is at risk, dude,** ” it said, mimicking Jeremy’s mannerisms. “ **Just keep the computer, and we can stay together.** ”

Michael's breath caught, his aggressive stance faltering. “Relat- We aren't _fucking_ together! That's the whole point!” Michael's glared softened into an expression of unease. It was really hard to not just see _Jeremy_. The SQUIP’s shift into the more human like being threw him off. 

The blue glow of the figure gave way to a more fleshy color. It stepped even closer to Michael. “ **We could be,** ” it said. “ **After this, do you really think we can just be friends again? We’ll either be together, or nothing. I know you want to be something. So, hell, let’s just do it.** ” The SQUIP’s now pale hand reached up for Michael’s shoulder. 

Michael recoiled from the hand, stumbling backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed. “I- You're not-” Michael felt like a cornered animal. His mind was telling him the truth; this wasn't the real Jeremy, it was just the SQUIP. But yet, his heart couldn't stop reacting to his being standing before him. “I don't want to lose you.” He whispered, looking at Jeremy's face with fear in his eyes. “I- not again.”

The SQUIP smiled. “ **You won’t. If you just go through with this. The computer, it’s just trying to help us. You know that.** ” The hand the SQUIP had used to near Michael’s shoulder was headed toward his face. “ **Be a good boy and do as it says. For us.** ”

Michael felt a shiver run down his spine at the glint in Jeremy’s eyes as he spoke. He gulped as a small blush rose in his cheeks. “Wh- but-” he stammered, unable to move away or break Jeremy’s intense gaze. Fuck, was it suddenly hot in here? 

The hand landed on Michael’s cheek. “ **Unless you’re too weak. Then this might be goodbye for us, Micah. I don’t want that. You’re too cute when you’re all hot and bothered like this for it to be goodbye.** ”

Michael's heart hammered in his chest and his blush darkened. _Micah_. That cursed fucking nickname always managed to set him off for some reason. “H- Hot and bothered?” He stuttered, breath suddenly coming out in shallow pants. “Wh-” he couldn't manage to get his words out, he felt too overwhelmed by the sudden close proximity mixed with the shift of mood.

“ **You heard me,** ” Jeremy’s voice rang out. The form circled Michael, making sure to act as if it were checking him out. The hand on Michael’s face didn’t leave it, only sliding around his head to his neck and back to his chin. 

Michael's breath caught. He was not equipped to handle the current situation. He didn't know what to do. He ended up stammering nervously as Jeremy watched him as though he were a predator. What the fuck, was Jeremy trying to make a move on him? Was Jeremy trying to be a fucking _Dom_?

“ **Maybe you’re right, Micah. About the whole top and bottom thing, yeah?** ” The SQUIP looked into Michael’s eyes with hunger. “ **This is what you’d be giving up, you know, if you make me drink that stuff. Or if you do. Do you want to miss out on this?** ” It almost sounded like it growled. 

Fuck. Michael hadn't ever had to deal with an aggressive Jeremy. Not like this. Sure, maybe he had _imagined_ such a situation, but- he shooed the thought away. Not time for that right now. He had to figure out what to do. His blood was rushing in his ears as his head spun. Jeremy was so damn _close_ to him. It felt intoxicating. “But, the- the SQUIP--” That's right, the SQUIP. What about the SQUIP, again? Why had they been arguing?

“ **Just wants to help us to be happy,** ” the SQUIP finished for him. “ **Are you gonna be a good boy about it? Don’t fuck it up, Micah.** ” 

_Fuck._ Michael gulped again. “Good boy?” He whispered, his stomach fluttering. What the hell? Why was that--- oh god. Michael was so fucked.

“ **You’re gonna be a good boy for me, Michael?** ” the SQUIP purred. 

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck? “I-” what the hell. “Y- yes.” He whispered, eyes locked onto Jeremy's intense ones. He felt captivated, but also uneasy, somehow. Something felt.. wrong. There was something nagging at him from the back of his mind. This wasn't right. This wasn’t-- This _wasn't_ Jeremy. This was the SQUIP. He was being manipulated. So, why couldn't he move away?

“ **Then we have a deal.** ” The last word held a familiar undertone; mechanic. Robotic. Nonetheless, the SQUIP maintained its eye contact with Michael. 

Deal? The deal! Michael recoiled suddenly, mind clearing slightly. “N-No! No deal! That- this isn't-- F-Fuck you!” This wasn't Jeremy. This was the SQUIP. He repeated it in his head as a reminder. This _wasn't the real Jeremy._

Anger rose in the SQUIP’s projected eyes. Its fake eyebrows furrowed. “ **You wish,** ” it said in Jeremy’s voice again. Then, its figure faded as another emerged from the same spot. 

Jeremy. Michael could be sure it was the real one, since it was his own body. Jeremy was holding a two liter and looked out of breath. He’d ran the whole way in pajamas in the late November cold. 

“Michael, I got it!” he said, catching shallow breaths. 

“Jeremy! Thank God. This thing was trying to--- it doesn't matter. Just- we have to get it shut down, _now_.” He scrambled over to Jeremy, urging the blush to fade from where it was still clinging to his cheeks.

“Okay, okay,” Jeremy said. “Are you okay? You look...I don’t know.” He opened the bottle with ease thanks to Michael’s more muscular grip. 

“ **You don’t want to do this, Michael.** ” The SQUIP’s voice was loud and echoic. 

Michael snorted. “Oh yes I fucking do.” 

Jeremy tilted his head. “Do what? Are you okay??”

An incredibly painful shock was sent down Michael’s spine. The SQUIP gained control of the boy’s nervous system. “ **I’m fine,** ” it said through Michael’s mouth. 

Jeremy sighed. “Good. Dude, don’t make me go out there ever again. It’s freezing.” He slid the opened bottle to Michael. 

The SQUIP sat the drink on the windowsill. It didn’t use Michael to say anything else. Instead it used his arms to grab Jeremy and pull him closer with a strength Jeremy’s body probably shouldn’t have. Aggressive lips met confused ones. 

Michael was suddenly back in his own body. “Oh god, Jer-” he tried to pull away from him, but Jeremy's hands were on his shoulders keeping him in place. “You need to drink the red!” 

Jeremy wanted to let go. He wanted to tell Michael he’d drink it. He wanted to grab the whole bottle and chug it like it was vodka at a party. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t in control—again. 

The SQUIP did let go of Michael, though. “ **S-sorry,** ” it said, in Jeremy’s voice. What was it doing? Jeremy didn’t want whatever it was to happen. 

Michael tried to move again, but to no avail. “Sorry? What do you mean sorry? Let go, drink the stuff, what are you doing?” 

“ **S-Sorry it took so long to come back? I let go, you’re fine.** ” The SQUIP backed up quickly, holding Jeremy’s arms up in surrender. “ **Can I just warm up a bit? It was really cold out there, let me catch my breath. You might be the cold one now but my brain is still freezing.** ” 

Jeremy wanted to stop the computer right there. That didn’t even make sense. What the hell did that mean? 

Michael's eyebrow furrowed. “What?” Something felt off. “Are you sure? I mean-- I think maybe you should just go ahead and--” Michael cut himself off as he reached for the bottle.

Suddenly, a choked sob escaped Jeremy’s throat. “ **I didn’t want to say anything,** ” the SQUIP said through more sobbing noises, “ **but I had to pass a- a dog that was hit by a car, and I- I’m really sad about it.** ”

“Jeremy, what the fuck? Was it really that sad?” Michael turned but the Jeremy in concern stepping slightly closer. Sure, he loved dogs but… This was kinda weird. “Um.. Are you okay?” 

“ **I’m sorry- It was just really sad and- can I hug you? Just really quick?** ” The SQUIP put on its most pleading face, a vulnerable pout that had graced Jeremy’s features only sometimes in the past. 

Jeremy really had no clue what the computer was doing. All he could do was watch through his eyes at his body moving and talking and shaking without him. 

Michael only hesitated for a moment before holding his arms open. “Yeah, of course.” That must've been one cute dog. Michael supposed they could afford a minute or two. What's the worst the SQUIP could do? The have the power to shut it down at any moment. It should be fine, right?

The SQUIP fell into Michael’s arms and hugged him tightly. It shook with more sobs. “ **We should get a dog, Micah. And protect it, together.** ”

Michael smiled, ignoring the fluttering feeling from the nickname. “Just like a family.” He joked softly. How would they both care for a single dog? It's not like they lived together. Maybe it would be kinda like a split custody situation. The thought made Michael chuckle slightly. “Let's get a corgi. They're cute, like you. He will take after his dad.” 

“ **I-I’m cute?** ”

Jeremy _really_ tried to break the computer’s control that time. To no avail. He wasn’t strong enough even to move his own eyes. 

Michael grinned sadly. “I’m sure we've been over this, Jerm. I mean.. let's be honest. It's pretty damn clear how I feel about you at this point.” Michael had done so much in the past two days, there no way the Jeremy didn't already know how he felt. It was just a matter of Jeremy's feelings for him.

If Jeremy were in control, his heart would have pounded and his blood would have run cold. He’d have sweaty hands and he’d blink in confusion. But he wasn’t in control. 

“ **I know.** ” The SQUIP nodded. “ **It’s fine. It’s- it’s good, actually. G-Great.** ”

Michael froze, pulling away so that he could see Jeremy's face. “It is?” He asked skeptically. That couldn't mean..?

“ **Yeah, I think so. I thought about it. And…** ” A kiss was placed on Michael’s cheek. Not enough to switch them back, but still very real. 

Michael's breath caught in his throat. He met Jeremy’s eyes. “Really? Like-- you're sure?” He didn't want Jeremy doing this for the wrong reasons. He couldn't afford to lose him again.

“ **I’m sure. You’re perfect, Micah.** ” The SQUIP fell deeper into Michael’s arms, even more vulnerable than before. 

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Jeremy wanted to scream. ‘Get off of him!’ 

The SQUIP must have had enough of Jeremy’s inner fight, because it sent a message back to him. ‘This is a byproduct of Michael’s mistake,’ it said, in his voice. ‘He tried backing out of something. You’re just a tool right now.’

‘Great,’ Jeremy would have spat. What did that even mean? Seriously, he had absolutely no idea what was going on. 

Michael almost felt overwhelmed at the sudden confession. Weren't they supposed to talk this out? He didn't think Jeremy was just going to suddenly be in love with him- not to say that he is-- but here he was. The boy of his dreams who was supposedly straight two days ago, calling him perfect. “I- That's-- good. That's very good.” He muttered, breathing deeply. He felt relieved, in way. No more waiting for an answer. No more constant fear of rejection. Just… Jeremy. “What does that mean? For-- for us?”

“ **Whatever you want, I think.** ” Another kiss on the cheek. Nowhere near as aggressive as the SQUIP had been earlier. This was more like Jeremy. The aggression had certainly gotten Michael’s attention, but it hadn’t completely worked. This should. It should make Michael keep his end of the deal, keep the SQUIP alive. 

Jeremy needed to cry. He needed this computer out of his head and he needed to cry. 

Michael sighed. “I don't- I don't know. I don't want to talk about labels and shit right now. I just want… this.” He tightened his arms around Jeremy's waist. Michael didn't think the full effect of Jeremy's words had really hit him yet, to be completely honest. 

He huffed out an awkward laugh. “I wish I could kiss you for real.” He admitted.

The SQUIP smirked in a way Michael couldn’t see. Its plan was coming together. Now it had to bring up the deal, and it would be smooth sailing. “ **Me too, Micah. But the SQUIP’s been helping. We have that drink coming soon. This’ll be over. Aren’t you glad? It’s been so helpful.** ”

Jeremy would have scoffed. So there was the SQUIP’s ulterior motive. He wanted to be able to feel angry. And punch a hole in something. 

“I dunno about _helpful_.” He grumbled. “The damn thing tried to seduce me as you.” Michael blushed at the memory.

“ **Really? Maybe it was just trying to show you what could happen.** ” A pause. “ **Or- Maybe it was glitchy. Or being an asshole.** ” The SQUIP needed to be more inconspicuous. 

Fortunately for the SQUIP, Michael was distracted by the first part of the sentence. “Wh- uh, what could happen? What is that supposed to mean?” Michael felt his mouth suddenly go dry. Was Jeremy insinuating that they could fuck? What the hell was going on?

“ **I dunno, once all this is over? I mean, all it does is help the best way it can. It’s afraid of being deactivated. But Michael— We could be together. With our corgi. We’d be good parents.** ” It paused to ask Jeremy if he’d please stop shouting obscenities at it, but he didn’t. “ **You’re really pretty, you know.** ”

Michael blushed and smiled nervously. “I'm nothing special. You're the beautiful one.” He scratched the back of his neck anxiously. All this mutual flirting stuff was new to him. He didn't know how to deal with it, so he was just incredibly embarrassed most of the time.

Soft eyes met nervous ones. “ **I wish. J-just kidding, you’re the beautiful one, I don’t know why I said that.** ” The SQUIP resisted rolling its eyes at Jeremy’s ‘I don’t sound like that!’ “ **I do wish I was better at this, though...but the SQUIP’ll help!** ”

Wow, it was really pushing that help thing, wasn’t it? Jeremy really thought if the SQUIP was a real person, he might murder it. No regrets. 

Michael hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah. About that..” His eyes suddenly turned worried. “Isn't it about time that we get rid of it?” Michael pulled back, edging towards the opened bottle of Mountain Dew Red. 

“ **What? No, come back. It can help us!** ” The SQUIP grabbed Michael’s arm. 

Jeremy was furious. He didn’t care if you were a sadistic supercomputer, you didn’t just _do_ this to someone. Especially Michael. His Michael. He felt...something. And then, against all odds, he felt himself again, breathing, heart beating, hand gripping Michael’s wrist. He immediately let go. 

“Michael,” he said— _he_ said—“Pour that shit down my throat if you have to.”

And that was all the time he got. The feeling left him as suddenly as it had encompassed him. The SQUIP was back in control. 

Michael felt his eyes widen, his blood turned to ice. Oh no. With a sudden shift like that, it could only mean one thing. “You aren't Jeremy.” He whispered. Fuck! His heart felt like it was shattering. Fuck feelings! Fuck love! Fuck confessions! _Fuck the SQUIP_. “Jeremy, I'm sorry. This is gonna be gross.” Michael grabbed the bottle of red and took a big swig before lunging at Jeremy, slamming their lips together. As soon as he was back as Jeremy he swallowed as much as he could. This was pretty gross.

Jeremy backed far away from the whole scene, shaking. He wanted to be as far from the SQUIP as possible. 

The voice of the SQUIP screamed in Michael’s head. “ **Michael! This is a _horrible_ mistake! You’re throwing away your future!** ” By the end, the voice had become glitchier and distant, fading into nothingness. All the while, pain—intense pain—faded into existence right at the back of Michael’s brain. 

'Good!’ Michael yelled at it. His head was spinning, eyes crushed shut in pain. He did his best to keep from shouting, even as he felt himself slipping into a pain induced state of unconsciousness. The last thing he heard before he passed out was Jeremy's distressed cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS ONE I SWEAR -thesaltydragon


	16. (Possibly Fuck Your Best Friend)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WOWZA!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK!

Jeremy fell to his knees beside Michael. In that moment, it wasn’t weird to see his own body lying there—all he could feel was worry, concern, and unadulterated anger. His hand went straight to Michael’s wrist, making sure his heart was still going. It was. Jeremy sighed with relief. 

Last time this happened, he hadn’t exactly been on this side of things. He didn’t have a clue what to do. He’d woken up in a hospital. Should he call 911 this time? Should he tell his father? And was the damn SQUIP gone again? He hoped so. 

He took Michael’s phone from the bedside table and opened it with his fingerprint. He dialed the three numbers, but hesitated. Holding the phone in one hand, breathing erratically, he shook Michael with his other. 

“Michael, dude, I-I’m gonna have to- I’m gonna have to call an ambulance i-if you don’t wake up.” He didn’t think it would work, but it was worth a try. And at least he told him what he’d have to do. If Michael got mad about it later, Jeremy could argue that he didn’t tell him _not_ to call 911. 

When Michael didn’t move, Jeremy’s thumb neared the call button. He stopped again. Could he really do this? He couldn’t make his father worry or pay for the ambulance and hospital bills, not again. They definitely couldn’t afford another trip to the ER. Especially right after the first one. But if he didn’t call for medical help, what could he do? CPR probably wouldn’t do anything, if only just switch them back, and then Michael would be in the same predicament. Should he just wait? He couldn’t remember how long it had taken him to wake up the first time. Did they have that kind of time? He was on the brink of panic. 

Michael wouldn’t want him to worry this much, right? He was humble under his friendly persona. Jeremy supposed the best thing was just to wait it out, but he decided if Michael didn’t wake up in time for school, he’d call the ambulance ASAP. 

He stood up, only just noticing the tears on his cheeks and under his glasses. They didn’t matter now, only Michael did, so he didn’t bother with wiping them away. He bent down and—unsurprisingly easily—lifted his own body and placed the boy in his bed. He should at least be comfortable. And if his father came in, it’d look like he was sleeping. 

Which reminded him. His dad had ordered pizzas for the both of them. He was going to have to go downstairs and retrieve them—as Michael. He had to act like everything was normal despite absolutely everything going to complete shit. At least as Michael he was less emotional, outwardly. But he still had that habit of bumping into things. He could play it off as being tired. 

Just as Jeremy was contemplating his Michael act, there was a call from downstairs. “Jeremy, Michael, the pizzas are here!”

“Thanks!” Jeremy called a little too quickly. He had run out of time to get his act together. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and glanced worriedly at Michael on the bed before heading out the door and down the stairs, only bumping the railing once. 

In the kitchen, before Mr. Heere had any chance to say anything, Jeremy got into character. “Hey, Mr. Heere,” he said, trying his best to sound like Michael. “Jeremy sent me to get those. Uh- he says thanks.” He hoped it was short enough to be convincing. 

Mr. Heere raised his eyebrow, a mildly concerned expression on his face. “Yeah, ok. But, uh, Michael? Are you.. okay? Your eyes are all red. Have you been crying?”

Jeremy froze. “No!” he said, again, too quickly. “Well, maybe, uh, we were watching...Big Hero 6…? And, uh, Tadashi just died, so it was, like, mega sad.” He nodded as if confirming his own lie. It was a known fact, actually, that Michael was a softie when it came to Disney movies. 

Jeremy’s dad eyed him for a moment longer before shrugging. “Whatever you say, Soldier. I'm off to go work in my room, yell if you boys need anything.” He shuffled off down the hallway.

\------

Michael cracked his eyes open slightly, his head ringing. What the fuck? What happened? Where was he? This wasn't his bed. Michael groaned as he tried to remember what happened. As the events of the past day suddenly came flooding back to him, he bolted upright in the bed. Fuck! He had- the goddamn SQUIP had made him think- Shit! He couldn't face Jeremy! Wait, Jeremy! Where was he? Michael scanned the room quickly, sighing in relief when he found he was alone. His head was pounding, but he stood up. He had to get out of this room. He definitely could _not_ face Jeremy after everything he had said.

He scurried over to the window, throwing it open. Sorry, Jerm. He knew Jeremy had said he didn't want them splitting up while they were like this, but Michael needed a minute, at least. He climbed out of the window carefully, into the large tree outside. Michael didn't intend to go _home_ , he just… didn't want to deal with the fallout right now. So, instead of being a man and talking about his emotions, he climbed the big Jewish (atheist?) Tree. He made his way up as close to the top as he could get and settled on a branch, letting the cool night air raise goosebumps on his skin. 

\------

Jeremy sighed with relief. He grabbed the pizza boxes and ran upstairs, running into the wall twice. He opened his bedroom door and set the pizzas on his desk. Good thing, too, because he would have dropped them. 

The bed was empty. What the hell? Was Michael awake? He had to be! But he left? Where was he?! 

Jeremy scrambled to the bathroom to see if Michael was in there. The door was open, no one inside. He went back to his room. “Michael?!” His voice was loud and desperate. He neared the bed, still calling Michael’s name. There was a cold gust of wind on Jeremy’s face, and he turned toward the source. The window was open. 

He ran toward it. “Michael!” he yelled. “Where are you?!” He looked through the open window, down at the ground. He couldn’t tell where Michael had gone. It was dark, and there wasn’t any movement near the bushes the two of them had hidden in just the day before. “ _Michael_!” 

Jeremy felt more tears stinging the back of his eyes. Why would Michael have left him? They needed each other. Was he only hiding? He thought he saw something move in the tree by the window. 

Michael felt his heart ache at the desperation in Jeremy's voice. He couldn't just let him be that upset, especially if he was the one who caused it. He took a deep breath. “I'm here, Jeremy.” He called, not moving from his place in the tree. He may be trying to calm the other boy, but he definitely wasn't ready to face him yet.

Jeremy’s head snapped up to the source of the voice. “Michael?! Thank god you’re okay—what the hell are you doing?!” He stuck his head through the window. 

Michael pouted. “Hiding.” He called, looking up at the sky.

“What?! No, come back in here! It’s cold out there, and you just woke up, and you could fall, and I’m worried about you!” Jeremy shouted. “Just come back and you can pout in the warmth of my room!”

“No.” Michael grumbled childishly. “I can't.” He added. “Not like, physically. I could come back in if I wanted. Like mentally. I can't.”

Jeremy stared up into the tree. “You’re scaring me, Michael…” He was. Jeremy was terrified. He wasn’t sure what had happened at all, and he was scared of the things he did know. Michael could at least ease his fear by getting his body out of the precarious position he was in. 

Michael sighed heavily, sniffling. “I can't, dude. Not after everything that the SQUIP--” he paused. “I can't face you. I'm sorry, but I can't right now.” Michael knew that if he tried to talk to Jeremy about what happened, odds are he would just try to blow it off for another time. Again. And Michael genuinely could not handle that. It's like a rejection, every time it happened. And Michael could not take another rejection right now.

“If you come inside, we can talk about it.”

“No.” Michael remained firm, crossing his arms. “I know you don't want to talk about it, and that's fine, but I can't deal with another-- I'm not coming in.”

Although he had Michael’s voice, Jeremy sounded like himself—desperate, high, and broken. “Please, Micah, I’m worried. We need to talk. A-At least don’t let go of the tree like that, you know my body’s not good at reflexes, what if you fall?” _Again_ , Jeremy thought. 

“I won't fall.” He grumbled. He sighed. Jeremy didn't seem like he was going to relent any time soon. And that fucking nickname again. Fuck his softness. “Fine.” He carefully maneuvered his way down the tree and towards the window until he was face to face with a concerned Jeremy. “Hi.” Michael pointedly refused to meet his eyes.

Jeremy stared into the eyes that wouldn’t look back at him. He grabbed Michael’s arms and tried to pull him inside. “It’s too cold out there, and if I remember from the hospital, your head must _really_ hurt.”

Michael pulled himself out of Jeremy's grip before climbing back inside on his own. “I'm fine.” He muttered. Being this close to Jeremy made his chest hurt more than his head did. Why the hell did he have to be so fucking gullible? He should have known it wasn't Jeremy, but he let his guard down. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. He stepped out of arm's reach and stared at the ground pointedly. “My head is fine.”

“Are you sure? Michael, you just passed out! You can’t be fine!” Jeremy stepped closer and tried to put a hand on Michael’s forehead to feel for his temperature. 

Michael recoiled, still not looking up at him. “I'm _fine_.” He insisted. Any residual pain from the SQUIP was being drown out by a different kind of pain. Heartbreak. He didn't know what to say, he knew Jeremy remembered everything that happened. How could he not? He was either going to ignore it like it never happened or bring up and let him down again. Michael wasn't sure which he would prefer.

Jeremy put his hand down. “I-I guess now that I’m ready to talk about it, you’re the one avoiding it.” He stepped back from Michael. “The pizza’s here. I don’t know if you care, but you need to eat something. Even if you’re me.”

Michael grimaced. He knew Jeremy was right but his stomach felt far too knotted for him to eat right now. “I'm not avoiding anything but more fuckin heartbreak, so give me a break, alright?” He spat. He hadn't meant to sound so aggressive. “I'm not hungry.” He turned away from Jeremy, walking over to sit in the chair at his computer desk. He really didn't want to do this.

Jeremy felt his chest bend in confused pain. “Do you want me to leave?” he whispered loud enough for Michael to hear. “I can go to your place. Just be you, and then you won’t have to deal with me.” The tears started edging their way to escape again. 

“Deal with you?” He questioned. “I'm not the one who has to deal with their gay best friend being in love with them.” He hissed. “I’m the one who has to be shut down and thrown out because I'm a dumb over emotional fuck.” His stomach twisted as a lump formed in his throat.

“W-Well—” Jeremy gulped. “I’m the one who insists he’s straight while he’s figuring out that maybe he wants to fuck his best friend!” There was no turning back now. “Honestly?! There’s nothing straight about me! Apparently my life’s been a lie, because lately all I’ve wanted is to be with you, Michael. Rich’s brother, that- that was the first sign. I know you saw how jealous I got. I’m _still_ jealous. I don’t want you flirting with strangers, I want you flirting with me! It just took this fucked up _whatever_ to show me that! So, yeah, deal with me, I said what I meant. Because you had to deal with me throwing basically what’s homophobia down your throat every day and now—Fuck, Michael, I love you!”

Michael had started crying halfway through Jeremy's rant. When he got the end, Michael thought his heart had stopped completely. He sniffled loudly, finally turning to look at Jeremy. He took a deep breath before he finally spoke, voice wavering through the tears. “I-If you're saying that because you feel bad for me, or you don't want to lose me as a friend or something, I swear to fucking god--” he was breathing heavily as he looked at Jeremy, waiting for any sign that he didn't mean it. “Do not fuck with this kind of thing. Are you being 100% serious right now?”

“You know I suck at math, dude, but—Michael, I’m 110% dead fucking serious, and I’d like you to just listen to me. I’m _sorry_ I hurt you. That doesn’t make up for any of it. I know that. There’s nothing I can say that can erase the past or change it or—I hurt you so many times. Most of those times I didn’t even know I was hurting you. I acknowledge that! I’m a shit person! A shittier friend! Damn, Michael, I’m just—I’m trying to—I’m 110% serious.” The tears finally fell from Jeremy’s eyes. 

Michael’s head was down, his hair-- Jeremy’s hair-- had fallen into his face, obscuring his view. “Fuck.” He whispered, bringing a hand up to his face. “Fuck, dude. I-” he could barely breathe through the mix of tears and emotions and feelings. “I fucking love you too.” He choked out, body shaking. “ _Fuck_ , I’ve loved you for so long.” 

Jeremy wasn’t sure if he should approach him or not, so he stayed put. “I’m sorry it took me so long, Micah,” he whispered. He whipped the glasses off his face and ran his sleeve across his eyes once more to dry them. He wanted to smile, to laugh, if even at his own foolishness, or maybe at the notion of how good it felt to say those things, but all he could do was cry, because he’d spent twelve years rejecting and hurting Michael Mell. 

Michael chuckled through his own tears. “Yeah.” He whispered, sniffling as he wrapped his arms tighter around himself. He gave Jeremy a watery smile. “It's really cold outside.” He laughed.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I know, I told you so, dork.” He went over to his bed and pulled off a blanket. “Here,” he said, but he didn’t dare get closer to Michael without permission. 

Michael stood up quietly, shuffling over to Jeremy. “I'm sorry I avoided you and tried to run away.” He muttered, edging into Jeremy's personal space cautiously.

Jeremy caught on and moved closer as well. “I’m sorry I’ve been a complete dick about all of this.” He stretched the blanket in his arms and stepped one step nearer. “Here,” he said again, and wrapped the rectangle around Michael’s shoulders, hugging him in the process. 

Michael leaned into Jeremy's touch gratefully, cracking a small smile as his tears finally slowed. “Lucky for you, I like dick.” He joked, wrapping his own arms around the other boy as best he could.

“God, Micah,” Jeremy laughed at the quip. He squeezed Michael tighter. It felt wonderful. Like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He couldn’t even mind that they were literally each other at the moment, he just felt warm and hopeful. 

It was an incredible feeling, getting those words out. 

Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> Sux- don't worry, the story ain't over yet;)))


	17. (please do not fuck barry b. benson)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF BREAK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sux; this one is pretty dialogue heavy but it's a fluffy break from all the emotional distress we've been putting u guys through ;)) thanks to everyone who keeps up with this, we really really appreciate it!! Your comments are all we have at this point <33 next chapter we'll get back to business with the plot, so enjoy this gay shit!!

Once the two boys had both calmed down and eaten, the TV playing idly as they lounged on Jeremy's bed. Michael sighed, turning to face Jeremy. “So.” He started, extending the 'o’. “Uhh, what exactly does this make us?” He asked, blushing softly. “I mean, I know we had the whole confession thing, but, like… we didn't really.. lay down the law, if you get what I'm saying?”

Jeremy didn’t look away from Michael. “I-I don’t know,” he admitted. “Are you really sure you want...anything? A-After all this shit the SQUIP did to you? T-Through me…?” 

Michael grimaced. “Jeremy. I literally just confessed my gay love to you. And forced your body to drink mountain dew like a fucking baby bird to shut that thing off. Fuck the SQUIP, I’ll punch it in the face.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy dragged out, “and I just had my...bi...sexual...awakening? Look, I get what you’re s-saying, but I don’t see how you can want to be with me after I basically violated you. I mean, it wasn’t me, but...it was my fault.”

Michael scoffed. “Jeremy, if you ever say that shit again I will punch _you._ Michael sat up so that he could face Jeremy properly. “I love you, bitch. I ain't never gonna stop loving you. Bitch.” He teased, flicking his forehead.

Jeremy swatted Michael’s hand away. “You can’t just ask if we’re boyfriends and then quote a vine at me, Mike,” he laughed reflexively. 

Michael grinned. “Step the _fuck_ up, Kyle. No, what did you say. What the fuck, dude.” 

Jeremy laughed genuinely that time. “ _Adam_.” He laughed again, and it died out. “But I’m serious, Michael. I know you’re not okay. A blanket and a hug and a pizza can’t fix that kind of manipulation.”

Michael gave Jeremy a worried look. “Jeremy, if you are about to reject me after finally accepting me I might cry. Again.” His expression turned sincere. “I don't give a shit about all of that stuff. All I want is you.”

“Really?” Jeremy whispered. “Because honestly, I think all I want is you, too.”

Michael gave him a crooked grin. “Good. Then it's fine. Right?” He grabbed Jeremy’s hand lightly. 

Jeremy looked down at their hands. In these long yet few days, he’d found himself. “Right,” he said firmly. 

Michael's smile widened. “So, Jeremiah. Would you do me the honor of being my Boyf?”

Jeremy moved his gaze to Michael and wished he could look at the real Michael instead of himself. “Only if you’ll be my Riends.”

Michael laughed loudly. “Man, Rich is gonna get a kick out of this, huh? If he even figures it out. Should we tell him?”

“T-Tell him? Man, he’s never gonna let this go, we can’t tell him!” Jeremy scooted closer to Michael now that he assumed he was fine with the proximity. 

“He’s gonna figure it out eventually. But it could be fun to see how long it takes him.” He grinned deviously.

“I guess,” Jeremy replied sheepishly. “I-I’m really tired, but I don’t think I can sleep.” It was true. He knew the thoughts of the SQUIP, and the memories of being outright controlled to hurt his best friend—no, boyfriend—would keep him up for many nights to come. It was traumatizing to Michael, but also to Jeremy. To be helpless against it all. And for it to really be his fault. 

Michael sighed sadly. “Yeah. Me neither. But that just means there's plenty of time for a movie night!” He perked up. They hadn't pulled an all nighter in a while.

“I already told my dad we were watching Big Hero 6,” Jeremy said. “He thinks you were crying over it. Sorry.”

“Big Hero 6 is so sad, if you don't cry when you watch it you're a monster.” 

“Hey, I can hold back tears if I want to!” That was a lie. 

“That's a lie.”

“Exposed.”

Michael snorted. “What do you wanna watch?” He asked, standing from the bed.

“Whatever you want,” Jeremy said. “I don’t think I’ll be paying much attention anyway.”

Michael hummed. “Why not, you wanna get nasty and make out during the scary parts of Sharkboy and Lavagirl or something?”

Jeremy reddened. “Michael! We just got together! A-And wouldn’t that just keep switching us anyway?” He thought for a moment. “Wait. What scary parts of Sharkboy and Lavagirl?”

Michael grinned. “Not like we’ve never kissed before. Anyway, can we maybe switch back, real quick? Like.. don't get me wrong, I love your body, but cuddling with myself is kind of fucked up.”

“R-Right, yeah,” Jeremy said as he edged closer. “Yeah, c-confessing my bisexuality to my own face was sort of...uh…Yeah.”

Michael leaned down toward Jeremy, putting a hand on his cheek. “That's kinda gay, bro.”

Jeremy smiled timidly. “You’re kinda gay, Micah.”

Michael snickered. “And Thank God I am.” He kissed Jeremy softly, full of all the pent up emotions from years of longing.

To Jeremy, this felt different than the numerous times they’d done it before. This kiss felt meaningful, and it felt wonderful. Wonderful to know who he was, finally, and that this is what he wanted. He barely noticed when he found himself in his own body again. He didn’t pull away, he didn’t dare. 

Michael smiled against Jeremy's lips, forcing him to pull away. “You're a nerd.” He whispered, only a breath away. “I like you a lot.” 

“Yeah,” Jeremy laughed. “I know.”

Michael pulled away completely. “Well, damn. Now you have to go put in the movie because I'm sitting down now.”

“What?! That’s so unfair!” Jeremy grinned at the familiar feelings he was finally allowed to have again. The SQUIP being nothing but a dull thought in the back of his head was definitely something to be grateful about. 

“You played yourself, Heere. Go on.” Michael waved towards the TV.

Jeremy groaned and trudged over to the stack of DVDs on his TV stand. “Does it really matter what it is?”

Michael snickered. “My Sharkboy and Lavagirl offer still stands. Otherwise something Dreamworks. I can still quote all of How to Train your Dragon word for word. Jay Baruchel is my dad.” Michael paused, eyes narrowing. “Barry B. Benson is my other dad.”

“You don’t have a father, Michael.” Jeremy looked through the stack. “And those are at your place anyway. I have Cars and Ratatouille though.”

“I do so have a father. He’s black and yellow and has the voice of an angel.” Michael snorted loudly. “Honestly, fuck Barry B. Benson. Let's watch Cars. Life is a Highway is a country bop.” 

“Great,” Jeremy said, popping the disk into the player. He grabbed the remote and sat back on his bed next to Michael. “Not like we’ll be really watching this anyway.”

“Damn, Jerry, that's sounds kinda thirsty, you good?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Fuck—No, Mike,” Jeremy retorted. “There’s just a lot on my mind right now. Can’t really focus. A lot just happened in the span of like three hours, you know. Did you forget?”

Michael shrugged, a dopey grin on his face. “I don't think it's really hit me yet, honestly. Like, Right now I'm just thinkin’ about this thing I saw the other day. The cake boss guy got pulled over and told the cop 'You can't arrest me, I’m the Cake Boss.’” he snickered again. “Fuckin Cake Boss.” Michael paused for a moment longer. “Holy shit, We’re dating. Why the fuck am I thinking about the Cake Boss at a time like this?”

“You just hid from me in my Atheist Tree and now you’re thinking about the Cake Boss? Do you feel okay? You have a stroke or something?” Jeremy was kidding, but he did feel concern build in his chest. Michael had gone through a ton of shit in a short period of time. If the Cake Boss was his coping mechanism, so be it. 

Michael nodded solemnly. “It's been a wild day. I hope the Cake Boss’ day was calmer than ours. Fuck, I want cake.” Michael felt vaguely disoriented. A lot had happened, and honestly he was still reeling from most of it. He hadn't expected any of this to ever actually happen. “I bet the Cake Boss would make out with me during the scary parts of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.” He pondered. He had no idea what the hell he was saying.

Jeremy stared at him. “You were _just_ freaking out over all of this, and now you want to make out with the Cake Boss. Great. I lost my new boyfriend to a middle aged man.”

Michael shrugged again. “Not my fault. He’s the Cake Boss, he gets what he wants. Damn, I think I’m probably going to freak the fuck out for real in a little while. Y’know, when it _really_ settles in and everything.” Michael collapsed backwards onto the bed. “What a day.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy whispered. “Me too, man. And I’m still not over Rich just stripping in class. What the hell?” He fell back beside Michael. 

“Richard is a complex boy. He likes three things. Being tall, Jake, and being a sexual deviant.” Michael sniggered. “Or maybe he's not so complex, actually.”

“Doesn’t sound complex to me,” Jeremy mumbled. “Everyone knows those things. One look at him in the hallway and you can tell all three of those.”

“Yeah.” Michael agreed, turning his head so that he could look at Jeremy as he spoke. “Do you remember that time when him and Jake made out on top of the lunch table and got detention? That was funny as hell.”

“How could I forget? Mr. Reyes told them to stop and Rich looked him in the eyes and said ‘We’re not going to, just give us detention’ and it was the most intimidating thing I’ve ever seen.” Jeremy nodded at the memory. He was pretty sure one of the girls had recorded the incident. 

Michael laughed loudly. “Christine looked like she was about to catch on fire, her face was so red!” He remembered Christine’s mortified expression and rampant stuttering as she tried to get the boys to stop. It hadn't worked.

“It stopped being funny when Chloe threw a quarter at Jake and told him to take his shirt off.” Jeremy shuddered. 

“I can't believe he actually did it, too!” Michael choked out. That day had been an experience none of them had wanted to have. Well, Except for Rich and Jake. They probably had wanted it.

“Oh, god,” Jeremy complained, “why would you make me relive that?”

Michael's laughter died down. “Our friends are weird.” He mumbled, a wistful smile on his face. 

“So weird,” Jeremy agreed. “But so are we.”

Michael nodded happily. “As fucked as it is, I’m glad you introduced me to them. And stuff. I dunno.” Michael was bad at being sentimental. 

Jeremy smiled. “I’m glad they stayed in touch with us. I like having friends.”

Michael grabbed Jeremy's hand, lacing their fingers together. “ _Us_.” He repeated, a soft grin gracing his lips.

Jeremy blushed. “How romantic. My own Romeo.”

Michael stuck his tongue out at Jeremy teasingly. “That means you're Taylor Swift. Serenade me, bitch.” 

“Taylor Swift? I don’t know her. Sounds preppy,” Jeremy teased. 

Michael scoffed. “How dare you. Taylor 'Snake Queen’ Swift is a legend.” 

“I only know Weird Al, bro, who’s this T-Swift you’re on about? Sounds like bad blood to me.”

“Oh my god, you fucking Dork.” Michael grinned, shaking his head. “Now I'm thinking about that damn Trapped in the Closet thing.”

“Trapped in the Drive Thru is a musical masterpiece. Don’t diss my 15 minute fast food melody.” Jeremy laughed again, almost giggly. 

“Remember how we used to sing the Spiderman one together? The one that was a Parody of Piano Man. It was such a jam.” Michael laughed again. “We're both such fucking nerds, oh my god.”

“Dude, we should bust that CD out again when this shit’s over. First date material.” Jeremy smiled to himself. 

“Hells yes.” Michael agreed, beaming at him. “We can jam and shit. And maybe get nasty if you're down.” He teased. “Oh my fucking god, what if someone fucked with weird Al in the background. That would be hilarious. It's, like, the ultimate power move.” 

Jeremy looked at Michael. “Why would you ever say that to my face? Why would you let my ears hear that? Why would you make your voice say that? Maybe I should call 911, you’re totally out of it.”

“God, I am so fucking out of it. I feel like I'm high. Am I high? Or dead?” Michael frowned. He didn't remember dying or getting high. “Did the SQUIP just kill me, is that what's happening here?” Michael pouted. “Are you a death Jeremy here to take me?”

“Death Jere—No, I’m pretty sure you’re alive and sober,” Jeremy answered. “Am I high or dead?”

“I don't think so.” Michael sneezed suddenly. “Oh shit, did you get my body sick?” He sniffled.

Jeremy shrugged. “I did run to and from your house in the cold November air, so maybe.”

“Damn, looks like you're going to have to nurse me back to health. Just like Rich with his home Econ baby that he almost killed.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes and laughed. “We weren’t going to talk about that anymore. And it’s not like Brooke did any better. She didn’t feed hers once.”

“And she kept dropping it.” Michael added, smiling. “Our hypothetical gay child would die if we let our friends babysit. How will we have date nights?”

“Have twins so they can watch each other,” Jeremy said. “Wait that’s stupid. Uh, I dunno, I’d trust Christine with a baby.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “The baby would be singing show tunes in under an hour. We would have a musical addicted baby who doesn't even know what a musical is.”

“Can a baby get obsessed with things if it’s a baby? Doesn’t a baby have to like develop and shit?” Jeremy didn’t know a thing about babies. 

“How should I know? Fuck. I need a nap.” Michael knew he probably wasn't going to be able to really process everything that had happened until the next morning, at the very least. “Hey, Jere, guess what?” Doesn't mean he can't act, thought. It felt like a dream, Jeremy loving him back. It's almost like it was too good to be true.

“Uh, what?” Everything up until about forty-five minutes ago had felt the most real anything’s felt for Jeremy in a long time. But now, it seemed like nothing mattered. He could say or do whatever because of course this wasn’t real. 

Michael leaned forward and pecked Jeremy on the cheek. “I,” he pecked him on the tip of his nose. “really,” his forehead. “Like you.” He pulled back and smiled. The fact that he could do this without the fear of rejection was astounding to Michael. He loved it. He loved Jeremy.

Jeremy felt his face flush. “Th-Thanks,” he stammered. “I like you, too.” He poked Michael’s face three times. With a deep breath, he repeated himself, this time firmly. “I like you, too, Michael.”

Michael felt his heart swell at the words. He let go of Jeremy's hand and instead wrapped his arm around the thin boys waist, pulling him to his chest in a weird half hug half cuddle. “Good.” He whispered, mostly to himself. 

Jeremy let Michael pull him closer, drowning out the sounds of Lightning McQueen trying to win a race on the TV. He put one arm around Michael’s shoulder and squeezed. “Yeah,” he whispered, “I think it’s pretty good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! I’ve gotten asks about doing art for this fic! Heck yeah! Go nuts! Tag me on tumblr with it @hey-hamlet-bmc or my coauthor @unfortunatelysux!! We would DIE if someone did fanart of our fic oh my goddd —theSaltyDragon
> 
> P.s.- I did a fanart, too, because I'm lame ! ;p I'll add a link if anyone is curious <3-Sux
> 
> http://unfortunatelysux.tumblr.com/post/169357970016/hey-hamlet-bmc-a-scene-from-chapter-16-of-our


	18. (Please Do Not Fuck School)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing Getting Done pt 2

Unfortunately, the boys had not managed to stay up all night as they had planned. They had ended up falling asleep in the position they had been laying in; Jeremy pressed snuggly against Michael's chest and Michael's arms wrapped around him like a teddy bear. The forgotten movie still played softly on the TV, having looped several times throughout the night. 

Michael shifted as the light streaming through the window hit his face, rousing him. He yawned, cracking one eye open. What time was it? Michael would have reached for his phone to check, but he froze when his eyes landed on Jeremy. Right. Jeremy. The switch from last night must not have worn off quite yet. 

Michael took in Jeremy's relaxed expression as he slept, the events from the day before finally returning to him. Michael felt his breath hitch. Jeremy had told him he loved him. Jeremy had agreed to be his boyfriend. Jeremiah Heere had _had a bisexual awakening for Michael._ His heart pounded as he stared at the boy next to him. They were _together._ Like, dating. Holy shit! 

Michael felt a sudden overwhelming surge of affection sweep over him, creating a lump in his throat. Michael sighed softly, bringing his hand up to rest on Jeremy's cheek. “Hey.” He whispered softly, attempting to wake the boy. “Jerm, it's time to wake up.” Well, probably. Michael still didn't know what time it was. He presumed that it was roughly time to get up, though, judging by the early morning light streaming through the window. 

Michael's hand moved from Jeremy's cheek, down his jaw, and back up to his lips which he traced softly with his finger. Stupid Body switching curse. He just wanted to be able to kiss his new _boyfriend_. The word still felt foreign to Michael, even in his head. “Jeremy.” Michael hummed again, not taking his eyes off of him.

A small sound escaped from Jeremy. His eyes twitched behind their lids and he shivered as the cold reached his consciousness. He groaned and tried to open his eyes, closing them immediately at the sight of the light from the window. “Nnn,” he uttered. “Lemmie sleep.”

Michael smiled crookedly. “We have to go to school, dummy.” His finger trailed over Jeremy's eyelids. “Up.” He commanded, tapping him on the forehead. Jeremy still definitely wasn't a morning person. 

Jeremy groaned again and tried to swat Michael’s hand away, but he moved too slowly. “Fuck school,” he grumbled, “let’s drop out.”

Michael chuckled softly. “But then how will we provide for our show tune obsessed child?” He teased, moving his hand to rest on the junction of Jeremy's jaw and neck. He brushed his thumb across Jeremy's jawline. 

Jeremy opened his eyes, but only slightly. “What child?” he asked, before remembering the previous night. His eyes widened, and he suddenly felt a lot more awake. “Oh my god,” he said. “I’m- We’re- I’m _bisexual_!” He became aware of Michael’s hand on his face in that moment. “For _you_!”

Michael's grin widened. “I know, right? Like, what the fuck?” 

Jeremy’s breathing quickened. “Wait, that actually- we’re actually- Michael! We’re _dating_!” He didn’t know whether to be shocked or excited, so he settled with both. “How did that- How did I- oh my god! I have a boyfriend!” 

“I know, right?” Michael agreed again. Usually Jeremy’s enthusiasm tended to have a calming effect on Michael. It was like Jeremy could be excited enough for the both of them, and all Michael had to do was be content and happy. It was a good dynamic. But Michael couldn't deny that this time he could feel his own excitement creeping into his chest. “You like me! And I like you! And you like _boys_!”

“Wh- Shut up!” Jeremy elbowed Michael in the side. “You liked boys first!” Despite his jokes, Jeremy was seventy-six percent sure he was going to have a breakdown soon. Sure, this was exciting and amazing, but it was a _lot_ to process for him. Make that seventy-nine percent. 

Michael shrugged dismissively. “Yeah, you're right.” He agreed. “I’ve certainly liked this _one_ boy for a good hot minute now.”

Jeremy looked at Michael innocently. “Is that boy me?” 

Michael put on a faux unimpressed look. “Nah, it's actually Brad Pitt.” He smirked. “Have you seen his bee lips in Fight Club? What's not to like.” He snorted.

Jeremy’s expression turned blank. “I hate that movie, Mike,” he said. “Brad Pitt is gross. You’re the only boy I like.” He gave a strand of Michael’s hair a teasing pull. 

Michael's breath caught at the pleasurable sensation that raced down his spine. “Y-yeah.” He muttered distractedly. He cleared his throat quickly. “Fucking bee lips are the worst, I wonder if he has bees on set to sting his lips before every shot.”

“I’m allergic to bees, and wouldn’t that hurt like hell? I don’t think method acting goes that far. But, I’m no professional.” He continued tugging at the strand absently, twirling it in his fingers. 

Fuck, that was very distracting. Michael gulped and blinked, trying to calm his racing heart. “It’s the curse of wanting that luscious, bee stung look. Gotta get them hoes looking thick. And I know you're allergic to bees, dumbass.” Oh god, he was really enjoying that hair think Jeremy was doing. He felt a blush start to bloom across his cheeks. 

“Aw,” Jeremy said as he pulled on a larger piece of Michael’s hair. “Good boy, you remember my weak ass allergies.”

Michael couldn't help it. He moaned softly. He hadn't intended for the sound to come out of his mouth, but the combination of Jeremy's words and the tugging on his hair took him by surprise. He blushed fiercely. “U-Uh…” he stammered. 

Jeremy froze and blinked, eyes wide. “D-Did you just- Was that a-” He couldn’t make himself finish. 

“No!” Michael yelped, blush impossibly darkening. “I- Uh- No!” He repeated quickly.

Jeremy furrowed his brows and didn’t lose eye contact with Michael. He tightened his grip on Michael’s hair and pulled harder in experimentation. 

“Ah- F-Fuck!” He moaned again. His eyes widened in mortification. “Jeremy!” He cried, casting him an accusatory look. “Don't!” 

“You think I forgot about that little incident from the other day? Consider this payback.” He didn’t pull again, however, because Michael had said not to. Jeremy was not about to go off the rules of consent. 

Michael pouted at him. “Well, I didn't expect you to pop a boner at the slightest stimulation.” He muttered. Truth be told, he kinda wished Jeremy had kept going, the hair pulling had felt really nice. But, he wasn't about to say that, definitely not. Michael huffed one last time before sitting up. They probably should start getting ready for school.

“Don’t bring my libido back into this, please,” Jeremy mumbled, staying laying back on the bed. “Ugh, what time even is it?” 

Michael grabbed his phone from where it had fallen to the floor beside the bed. “6:16” he said, sighing tiredly. “Ugh. _School._ ” he groaned. “Why is school so early?” He asked bitterly, glaring at the numbers displayed on his phone.

“Hey, at least we’re still ourselves, right?” Jeremy sat up finally, holding his head as the ache that he’d gotten used to returned. 

Michael hummed, idly rubbing Jeremy’s back in comfort as he noticed him clutching his head. “Well, if we weren't then that last situation would have turned out very differently, I think.” He teased lightly. He hated that Jeremy had to live with the constant headache from the SQUIP. And he definitely remembered what it felt like.

“Nerd,” was all Jeremy said to that. He would have gotten up, picked an outfit, or something, but Michael’s hand on his back was far too comforting. 

Michael smiled at the familiarity between them. He felt relieved that nothing had changed between them just because they were 'boyfriends’ now. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just get ready.”

———

As the boys made their way through the doors into the school, Jeremy contemplated holding Michael’s hand. That was a start, right? New relationships were supposed to start that way. But he was nervous, extremely so. And he also remembered Michael’s challenge—see how long it would take Rich to figure it all out. It’d be too easy if they walked holding hands. So Jeremy settled on holding the door for Michael instead. 

“Wow, thanks, my knight in shining armour.” Michael joked as he entered. “We have, like, an hour before class.” Michael pondered what they should do as the pair made their way through the hall carefully. “I don't know if Rich and Jake are at the lockers yet. When do they… start, anyway?” Michael questioned as he grimaced slightly. Rich and Jake were a lot to experience so early every morning. 

“I don’t...know,” Jeremy admitted. Jake and Rich were always there when Michael and Jeremy arrived, always all over each other like the world was ending. 

Michael sighed. “Surely they can't make out for the _whole hour_ , right?” Michael paused briefly to apologise as he accidentally bumped into someone walking the opposite direction. “We should invest in, like, an air horn or something. That would break 'em up, I bet.”

“Michael,” Jeremy started, “I don’t think anything could break those two apart. You’ve seen how they cling to each other. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so in-your-face.” He rolled his eyes. 

Michael nodded in agreement. “Maybe if they had less… _hips_ involved.” Michael shrugged as the rounded the corner to his locker. “Oh, damn, well would you look at that! A miracle.” The two boys were pleasantly surprised to find that Rich and Jake were, in fact, _not_ up to their usual public display of affection but were rather standing beside Rich’s locker chatting with Christine and Chloe. “Hey.” Michael greeted calmly as they approached the group. “Sup.”

Rich turned to them and smiled. “Yo! Sup! You guys dipped on us yesterday, you didn't get to see my second act!”

Jake grinned. “It sure was something, babe.”

Jeremy groaned. “Great, sorry we missed out,” he drawled sarcastically. “Thanks for helping yesterday though, really.”

Jake put his hand on his hip. “No big, homie. Uh, are you Jeremy or Michael?”

Chloe scoffed. “Um, Jake? Are you sure that lunch tray didn't hit you too hard yesterday? I mean, I know they're attached at the hip, but…” she trailed off, raising an eyebrow in concern. 

Jake scoffed. “I’m not a total idiot, Chloe—”

Christine took a step forward and pointed. “That’s Jeremy, Jake.” She smiled politely. 

Jeremy shrugged. “She’s right,” he said, not wanting to explain the entire story to more people. 

Michael unconsciously moved slightly closer to Jeremy. “And I’m Michael.” He added glancing at Christine. Michael had a lot of feelings, he may not look it or act it, but he was a pretty emotional guy. And Christine always managed to confuse those many emotions. He loved Christine, she was an amazing friend and nothing but nice. But he also couldn't help but feel vaguely threatened every time she was around. He was always afraid that Jeremy would leave him for her, and now that statement had a whole new meaning. 

Rich pouted, grabbing Jake's arm. “Guys, stop bullying my bro.” He demanded. “The only one who can bully my boy is me, and I only do that in the bedroom.” He looked up at Jake with a smirk and winked suggestively.

Jake laughed. “You’re such a power bottom, Richie.”

Jeremy groaned and Christine became visibly uncomfortable. 

“We really don’t want to hear that stuff, guys,” she said. “At least, I don’t. Do I stand alone?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Nah, I agree.” He’d been able to talk to Christine a lot easier now that they’d done the whole getting together and breaking up thing. They were much happier as friends and Jeremy was glad they were. It didn’t stop Michael from becoming territorial, though, as far as Jeremy could tell. 

Chloe didn't look up from where she was browsing on her phone. “Oh, please. _I_ could've told you that Rich was the Dom.” She scoffed. “Jakey always was…” she paused, glancing at Jake with a mildly bitter expression. “Submissive.”

Michael groaned. “Oh my god.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced at Jeremy. Was it too late to take back what he’d said about liking these people?

Rich puffed out his chest proudly. “He’s my bitch.”

Jeremy muttered something along the lines of, “How can you be a bottom _and_ the dom?” and took a small step backwards from the two other boys. 

Jake had already put his arm around his boyfriend by the time Jeremy had done that, however. 

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, simply. 

Christine groaned at the scenario. “I’m just gonna...go...if this is what you guys talk about every morning,” she said. 

Michael snorted. “Usually there's no talking involved with 'em. Just lots of tongue.” He shook his head before casting Jeremy a sideways glance. “Don't worry, babe, I’ll show you how someone can be a bottom and a dom.” He muttered quietly, snickering to himself. 

Jeremy’s voice caught in his throat. “Wh-what?”

Jake cocked his head to one side. “You say something, Michael?”

Michael shook his head innocently. “Nope.” Michael pinched Jeremy’s arm lightly, (just enough to make him jump) maintaining eye contact with Jake as though nothing happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to the readers sending messages about art: any kind of art is fine! we’re not dictators! i got an anon asking if digital was okay,,,like yes honey  
> just tag us! we’d love to see what we’ve inspired!


	19. (please do not fuck rollercoasters)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff trash! We're trying to move the story along so that we can get to some more plot stuff so we're having to give you guys a sudden excessive burst of filler fluff! Worry not, more things will start happening very soon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another 2 for 1 day?? Wowie -sux

Jeremy was grateful he’d managed to get through his presentation the second time without a fire alarm or strip tease. He’d totally and completely butchered it, but at least he’d finished. The whole time, though, Rich had made uncomfortable eye contact with him, causing him to feel more anxious. He really needed to eat something or else he’d be shaking all day. Fortunately, it was time to meet up with Michael and the others at lunch. 

Michael, who was glad to have _finally_ been able to take his test, met up with Jeremy on their way to lunch as per usual. “Oh, _Fuck_ , dude! I totally forgot to even ask my moms if I could stay at your place! I literally just didn't show up at home.” Michael pulled out his phone to check for a barrage of missed calls and/or texts from one or both of his mothers. “What the fuck, they haven't even tried to reach me.”

Jeremy furrowed his brows. “What? Shouldn’t they be freaking the fuck out that their precious son is missing? Maybe my dad called them.” 

Michael smirked. “Aw, you think I'm precious?” 

Jeremy’s face fell flat as his eyes shifted to look at a wall as if he were staring into the camera of a workplace comedy. “Yeah,” he said curtly, patting Michael on the back and continuing walking to the cafeteria. “My dad probably did tell them, y’know.”

Michael snickered at Jeremy before responding. “Probably. I’ll text them just in case. Maybe they were just super chill with me getting kidnapped.” He mused.

“They’re cool, but not that cool. They’d care more than my dad would if I got kidnapped.” Jeremy pushed the lunchroom door open. 

Michael hummed thoughtfully. “You wouldn't _be_ kidnapped. I’d beat the shit out of anyone who touched you.” He blushed. “That felt gay.”

Jeremy felt a small blush rise in his cheeks as well. “You _are_ gay, Micah.”

Michael smiled deviously. “You're half gay.”

Jeremy sighed. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Michael shrugged as they reached the table where all of their friends sat. “Whatever.” He dismissed, sitting down. Michael didn't want to keep talking about it in front of the others, it wasn't really his tale to tell and he wasn't sure if Jeremy was ok with the others knowing or not.

Jeremy sighed once more and sat in his usual spot on the left of Michael. He took a look behind them at the line to get food—too long for now. He’d wait. 

They exchanged greeting with everyone before setting into the previous conversation once more. 

Rich seemed to be vehemently attempting to explain himself over something. “Look, how was I supposed to know? It's not like they _tell_ you-” 

Chloe cut him off. “ _Yes_ , they do. It's literally, like, the first thing they tell you. 'Keep your hands and feet _inside_ the ride at all times.’”

Michael interrupted quickly. “Hey, so, What the fuck? What are you guys talking about?”

Rich pouted bitterly. “Once I got kicked out of an amusement park for trying to stand up on a rollercoaster.”

Jake laughed. “He’s not allowed on that ride, like, ever again!”

Jeremy blinked. “Why would you try to stand up on something that could kill you? Michael lost his glasses on one once and that was scary as it was.” 

Rich looked offended. “Why _wouldn't_ you want to stand up?” 

Christine watched in concern. “It’s dangerous, Rich, you could have gotten really hurt.”

Chloe nodded fervently. “I once saw this thing where a guy got decapitated from doing that.”

Michael's eyebrows furrowed in concern. “For real?” 

Chloe shrugged. “Probably.”

Rich pouted more fiercely. “Fuck rollercoasters! They just couldn't handle the real Richard Goranski.”

Michael opened his mouth to retort but was stopped by a sudden intense rushing in his head. “Shit!” He groaned, overwhelmed by nausea. He was glad he hadn't eaten yet. Michael blinked, a cold sweat taking over him, and when he opened his eyes he was no longer himself. Damn it! That switch had lasted so long, too! 

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Dude, you okay?” he said to Jeremy, who was now in Michael’s place, clutching his head, still having not opened his eyes.

Jeremy groaned in pain. “Huh?”

Christine turned toward the boys. “What’s going on?”

Michael coughed to draw their attention to him and away from Jeremy. “Uh, it's nothing, he’s fine.” He promised, the sick feeling quickly fading. He needed to do something, and he didn't really want to try to find an excuse for him and Jeremy to go to the bathroom together. Well, he could've probably used the nausea as an excuse but, it's more like he didn't _want_ to do that. He was tired of all the questioning and prodding from their friends. He grinned wickedly internally, an idea coming to him. “Hey, Rich, you remember how you offered to show us how many push-ups you could do and we said 'some other time?’”

Rich nodded excitedly, bouncing in his seat.

“How about now?” He asked timidly, doing his best to maintain Jeremy's mannerisms. Rich cheered and hopped out of his seat, laying on the Cafeteria floor. Chloe and Brooke both groaned. This was not an uncommon occurrence. Rich was always springing for any opportunity to show off his physical abilities.

By this time, Jeremy had realized what had happened. He was going to have to talk to Michael later about acting like him. That performance was subpar at best. He looked at his friend—no, boyfriend—in confusion. Why would he ask Rich to do pushups? Unless...Right. He was going to kiss him. 

Michael did just that . As soon as Rich couldn't see them, he grabbed Jeremy by the collar of his shirt- Michael's shirt- as and pulled him down into a quick kiss. Right in front of everyone.

Jake had managed to pry his eyes from his boyfriend’s arms for two seconds—enough time to witness Jeremy? grab and kiss Michael? right at the lunch table. 

Christine nearly dropped her handful of french fries as her mouth gaped at the sight.

Jeremy, after stabilizing himself due to the quick switch, noticed Christine’s reaction and put his finger on his mouth to indicate she needed to keep quiet. He looked over to Jake, who was smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at the two of them. 

Michael's mood was suddenly increased due to the familiar euphoric sensation cause by their kisses. He grinned at the Astonished expression of their friends. “Ok, Rich, please. That's enough. You can stop.” 

Rich hopped up with a frown. “But I could've kept going for at _least_ another 50.”

Jake smiled at him. “Show me later, babe, I’d love to see that.”

Groans from the others filled the silence. 

“Jesus, do you two _ever_ take a damn break? Fuck!” Chloe shook her head. Brooke shrugged beside her. 

“At least they're active, y’know? It's good for their relationship.” 

Rich beamed happily. “Yeah! Active! Active is what we do best.” He gloated, taking his seat once again.

Jake resumed his praising Rich and Jeremy became suddenly aware that everyone—save Rich—had just seen him, though it was really Michael, grab Michael, though it was really him, and kiss him out of nowhere. 

Christine was still looking at Jeremy in shock. He looked back awkwardly. There was nothing he could say. 

Jenna cut in suddenly. “Uhhh, so are we not gonna..?” She trailed off, gesturing between Michael and Jeremy. 

Jeremy squeaked. “Nope,” he squealed, instantly embarrassed at everything his body was doing. 

Brooke shrugged. “We can talk about it later, I guess. When they’re _ready_.”

Jeremy gulped. “Y-Yeah, uh huh.”

Rich raised an eyebrow. “Huh? What are you guys talking about?” 

Michael grinned. “Nothing, man, don't worry about it.” He snickered. 

Jeremy let out a sigh of relief. “Are we getting food or what?” He was definitely hungry. 

Christine looked back at Jeremy. “The fries are cold. Wouldn’t recommend.”

Michael hummed. “When are they not cold?” He mused, grimacing. “Damn. I want a slushie. It's been a couple days since I got one.”

Jeremy felt a little at fault for that. “We can get one for you after school,” he promised. 

“Thank God.” 

\------ 

After lunch, the boys had their first class of the day that they shared. Art class. They walked to the classroom, chatting idly about whatever came to mind. They reached the correct hallway with three minutes left before the bell rang, signalling the start of class. “Art, Art, Art!” Michael chanted happily. Art was one of his favorite classes. It didn't require thinking or physical exertion. Plus, he had been told in the past that he wasn't so bad at it.

Jeremy laughed at Michael’s chanting. Art was his favorite class, but only because he got to see Michael this happy. He figured that was evidence of his bisexual crush on him before he ever even knew. However, Jeremy was not the best at any type of visual art. He’d barely gotten into the class at all. It just wasn’t his strength. 

Michael and Jeremy entered the classroom and took their usual seats near the back corner. He pulled his phone out quickly before the bell rang to check for any replies from his mothers. “Oh my God.” He muttered and he read a text from one of them. “ _Mom_.” He groaned.

Jeremy tilted his head. “Hm?” he questioned. “Your mom texted you? What’d she say?”

Michael whined as he turned his phone towards Jeremy to show him.

Mom #1: don't worry, Jeremy's dad called us. He said u were crying over a Disney movie! lol. but u forgot to get the stuff we got for you!! I know u 2 are teenagers in a new relationship but u have to be safe!!!! love u, have a good day at school

The text was followed by a barrage of kissy face and smiley emojis. Michael whimpered. “This feels substantially more uncomfortable than it did before.”

Jeremy winced at the text and emojis. “God, I mean, at least they didn’t call the police to try and find you, right?” He was glad at times like this that his father was not a man who knew how to use the emoji keyboard.

“Yeah.” He muttered. “Great.” Before the could say anything else, the bell rang. Once everyone was settled in their seats the Art teacher sighed boredly. 

“Ok, class, today We’re doing portraits. Choose a partner and draw them.” 

Jeremy frowned. He couldn’t draw, period, but drawing people? Hell no. “Ugh,” he complained. “Michael, you’ll pick me, right?”

Michael scoffed. “Who else would I pick?” They always picked each other. Why would he stop now? “Why?”

“Just making sure,” Jeremy said, sticking his lip out in a pout.

Michael chuckled. “Stop pouting, You’ll do fine. Drawing isn't that hard. Just draw what you see.” Michael took two of the Sketch Pads that we're in the middle of the table and handed one to Jeremy. “You're not even _that_ bad at it.”

“Not _that_ bad? Thanks,” Jeremy said sarcastically. “I know I’m better than Joseph M. who just, like, scribbles on everything. How did he even get in this class? It took me forever.”

“Strategic Scribbling?” Michael offered, flipping open his sketch pad. He turned in his seat to face Jeremy fully, crossing his legs so he could rest the pad on them. “And you know what I meant. Your art isn't bad.”

“Yeah, sure, that one sculpture I did in middle school almost looked like a panda. It was supposed to be a snowman.” Jeremy pulled his pencil out of his bag and opened his book to a clean page. “Hey,” he started, “I’ve got an idea.”

“Yeah?” Michael inquired. What could he possibly have an idea about? They were just drawing each other, there's only so much you can do.

“You draw me, right?” Jeremy began. “Then we switch back, and you draw yourself!” He was proud of his scheme. It seemed flawless.

Michael laughed loudly. “Jeremy, what the fuck! There's not nearly enough time to do that!” Michael laughed to himself, Jeremy would do anything to get out of something he didn't want to do.

“Michael! Come on! Why do you _hate_ me?” He put on his best pouty face. “I’m getting something out of this disaster, and I think a good grade is what I want!” He’d already gotten a boyfriend, but really, an A in art would be the icing on the cake.

Michael couldn't stop his grin as he shook his head. “Jeremy, you can get a good grade on your own. You don't need me to do it for you.” He paused, leaning slightly closer to Jeremy so that he could whisper to him. “But, If you _really_ want me to do something for you, there's always later.” He winked teasingly. Damn, teasing Jeremy with innuendos and flirting was possibly one of his favorite things to do these days. He loved how Jeremy's face would instantly light up with a blush and he would stutter awkwardly. It was cute.

“Wh- N-No, stop,” Jeremy stammered. “That’s inappropriate. Just help me draw gooder.” He knew Michael could see how deeply he was blushing. Usually he’d turn a crimson red at Michael’s innuendos, but recently--and probably because of a certain awakening--the color of his blushes had darkened significantly.

Gooder? Jeremy must _really_ be flustered. Michael smirked. He wondered how long he could keep this up before Jeremy couldn't handle it anymore. “Oh, Honey, that's nowhere near as inappropriate as what I’m thinking about.” Was that too much? Probably. Michael tried not to dwell on his words too much.

Could Jeremy become any redder? He could, and did. “S-Stop, Michael, n-not here, this is l-learning class.” He really did have a one-track mind. The days missed of watching his morning porn were catching up with him.

 _Learning class_. Michael's words were definitely having the intended effect. “Hmm, so it’s fine if we do it somewhere else? How coy.” Michael knew that that one was a reach and probably didn't actually make sense in the context of their conversation, but he hoped Jeremy was too worked up to notice.

Jeremy clenched his jaw. “Wh-where, like your basement? N-No way, we s-smoke drugs down there.” He didn’t know exactly what Michael was talking about doing, but it sounded risqué.

That peaked Michael interest. “Oh? And where, exactly, would you _prefer_? The school bathroom?” His basement room was perfectly suitable place for… fucking? Is that what they were talking about now? Whatever, the point was, his room was fine!

“ _No,_ ” Jeremy whimpered. “Other people smoke d-drugs in there, too.” He hid his face behind his sketch pad. “Wh-What are we even talking about?”

Michael shrugged. “I have no fucking clue. Let's just do this drawing thing.” As my much as Michael was enjoying this-- and _boy, was he enjoying it_ \-- they really needed to start on their assignment.

“F-Fine, just don’t say things like that right now.” He shakily clicked the top of his mechanical pencil so the lead would reveal itself. “A-Am I going first?” he asked, still put off by Michael’s innuendos.

Michael's heart swelled at the flustered expression on Jeremy's face. Holy shit, was he ever in love with this boy. “We can just do it at the same time.” He held himself back from making another lewd comment. “It’ll be faster that way.”

“R-Right, I didn’t even think of that,” Jeremy muttered. “That’s why you’re the smart one.”

Michael chuckled. “Well, you've always been the pretty one. I need _something_ y’know?” Michael chose a plain wooden pencil. Mostly because it was all he had. Michael wasn't very good at keeping up with things like pencils, and often had to borrow them from classmates.

Jeremy scoffed. “Stop saying I’m pretty, Mell.” He tried to draw a head shape on his pad, but erased the whole thing.

“You _are_ pretty. Just stating the facts.” Michael began his rough sketching process blindly. Even though people told him he was good at, he really had no idea what he was doing when it came to drawing. He just kinda went with the flow.

Jeremy kept trying his luck at the first head shape. “This is what I just said to stop doing, Micah,” he complained. At least it was better than Michael being in his body and telling him he was pretty. That was weird on a few levels.

Michael glanced up at him for a moment before resuming his drawing. “I thought you said no more sexy times jokes. Compliments are different.” Michael sometimes got bitter at how hard it was for Jeremy to accept other people's praise. It made him want to keep repeating it until he had the truth drilled through his head. He wanted him to be able to see how good he really was.

“Hmph.” Jeremy erased his lines again. “I _guess_ my boyfriend can tell me I’m pretty.”

Michael grinned as he glanced at at him again. “Your boyfriend is going to tell you how pretty you are forever, because you're _really fucking pretty._ ” He really did want Jeremy to get it through his thick skull. He was beautiful.

“Thanks,” Jeremy muttered flatly. “That portrait of me better be even prettier then.”

“Impossible. Nothing is prettier than you.” Michael said it as if it were nothing but a known fact. Which, to him, it was. 

“ _Michael_ ,” Jeremy warned. “If you keep saying things like that, I can’t promise that I can control my actions.” It was mostly a joke, since he knew anything too intimate would either switch them or just get them into trouble, but he also really wanted to just kiss Michael. His realization of his feelings had jump started his desires. No need to go slow and steady when you knew each other for twelve years, right?

Michael's breath hitched in surprise. “Is that so?” He asked breathily. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Fuck, he hadn't expected Jeremy to say that kind of shit back. And he _really_ hadn't anticipated just how much he would be affected by it. Although, He guessed when you spend years pining over someone, they're probably going to be able to get you worked up fairly easily.

“For _now_ ,” Jeremy drawled, “we’re doing art stuff.” He wished he could promise something to Michael, but he really didn’t want to go too far in their new relationship until they’d been fixed. For now it would have to be awkward between them. 

“And later? What, exactly, will we be doing then?” Michael questioned, swallowing thickly.

“Getting you a slushie, Micah.”


	20. (Please Do Not Fuck Promises)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love you guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so excited  
> -elliot

As Michael pulled into the 7/11 parking lot, Jeremy watched a couple of kids playing on the swingset of the day care next door. He remembered what Michael had said about having a baby, and although he knew it was mostly a joke, something about it warmed Jeremy’s heart. He never thought about it before—being the ‘no homo’ guy he was—but honestly, there wasn’t someone better than Michael for him to have a kid with. Was that thinking too far ahead? He’d only just realized his feelings, after all. Nonetheless, he found himself imagining what Michael could be like as a father. He’d be the fun dad, obviously, who complained along with the child about vegetables or cleaning up. He’d teach them to play video games, or any games really, and show them his favorite music. Jeremy wasn’t nearly done imagining when he heard the car shut down. 

Michael looked at the 7/11 doors from where he sat in the driver's seat. “Ugh.” He groaned, turning to Jeremy with a pout. “Jeremy, I don't wanna get out. Can you just go get the slushies for us? Pwease?” He stuck out his bottom lip dramatically, batting his eyelids.

“What? Me, the guy with social anxiety? You want me to go and order drinks alone?” Jeremy tried to match Michael’s pouty face. 

Michael groaned louder. “Jeremy, come on, it's just the 7/11! It’ll take two minutes, tops. Besides, if you do it I’ll… reward you.” He smiled at Jeremy seductively. 

Curse Jeremy’s teenage body. He couldn’t say no to that. He made a whining noise but unbuckled his seatbelt. “Promise it won’t hurt too much to talk to a stranger?”

Michael beamed widely. “Promise! Besides, they work at a 7/11, odds are they're already dead on the inside”

“That’s accurate,” Jeremy agreed. He took a breath and opened the car door. “I’ll be back in a minute I guess. Cherry, right?”

“You know me so well. I’ll be waiting.” Michael winked at him, a satisfied grin on his face. 

“Have fun without me.” Jeremy exited the car and made his way inside. He went straight to the counter. 

There was an old man buying a bag of chips in front of him, so Jeremy waited patiently behind him. To his right, there was a younger man standing arms crossed toward who could either be his girlfriend or sister. She looked mad as well. Jeremy took one step to his left to avoid their gazes. 

The couple appeared to be engaged is a rather tense argument over something. Jeremy tired his best to ignore it, not wanting to pry in strangers’ business where he didn't belong, but the argument was rapidly becoming exponentially more heated. The man uncrossed his arms, clenching his fists at his side as he raised his voice to an angry yell. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Bitch?” He shouted with an enraged expression. The woman didn't step down, in fact, she yelled back despite the mildly intimidated expression on her face. 

“Don’t call me a bitch, you asshole! Fuck you! I don't need you!” She held her ground.

This seemed to anger the man further, and he suddenly pulled his arm back threateningly as though he were about to hit her. “Of course you need me! I'm all you have!” 

She glared fiercely. “Fuck. You.” 

His hand whipped forward.

Jeremy couldn’t watch this. Something had to stop this from happening. He didn’t think it would be himself, however. He found himself suddenly staring head on at the man’s fist as it came flying toward him. Despite everything Jeremy knew, he wasn’t scared. He just wanted this woman to be safe. In that moment, his only thoughts were that he hoped she got away or that someone was calling the police. 

Michael had been watching Jeremy through the glass front of the shop. He had seen the man raise his arm, much to his alarm. And he had seen when Jeremy jumped directly into the path of the man's fist. Michael felt his heart stutter in shock and fear, throwing the car door open. Jeremy had gone down, banging the back of his head on the edge of the counter. Michael burst through the door of the 7/11, eyes instantly locking on Jeremy's crumpled form. His blood ran cold. 

He tore his eyes away from his boyfriend to look at the man who had hit him. The man who hadn't seemed to be deterred in any way, and was still shouting viciously at the-- now crying-- woman. Michael saw red. His body moved on it's own, anger taking over him. The next thing he knew, he was knelt on top of the man, who was sprawled out with a bloody nose and quickly swelling eye on the 7/11 floor. 

Michael blinked rapidly. Had he done that? He looked at his hands, taking in his bloody raw knuckles with a vaguely nauseous feeling. Then he remembered. “Jeremy!” 

He spun around, stumbling over to Jeremy's limp form and collapsing next to him. “Jeremy?” He pulled him into his lap, brushing his hair out of his face and shaking him lightly. “Jeremy! Wake up!” He pleaded desperately. Fuck! This was all his fault! Michael had forced him to go in on his own, and now he could've been seriously hurt! A wave of self loathing washed over him, but was quickly drowned out by the overwhelming grip of fear. His eyes stung. “Please.” 

A noise escaped Jeremy’s lips as he started to twitch. His fingers moved first, then his eyes behind closed lids. Another groan followed, and he tried pushing himself up. When that failed, he grabbed the back of his head in pain, eyes still closed. He didn’t say anything. 

Michael’s breath hitched. “Jeremy! Oh my God, are you ok? Please tell me you're ok.” Michael asked desperately, a lump still in his throat.

Jeremy groaned again, but stopped midway through. He was going to ask what happened, but now he only had one concern. “Michael?” he said, with a strange amount of anger in his voice. He opened his eyes and groaned even louder than before. “What the fuck?” He pushed himself off of Michael and away from him. “Why the fuck are you touching me? I thought I told you to get out of my way, loser.” He stood up, still clutching the place on his head where it had hit the counter. “Were you just trying to make a fucking move on me? God, how pathetic.”

Michael felt sheer terror pierce his heart. “W- What?” He stuttered, breath uneven. “What are you talking about?” He sounded like--- Michael swallowed and stepped closer cautiously. “Jeremy?”

Jeremy backed up twice as far as Michael had gotten closer. “Don’t fucking talk to me,” he said. “And what the fuck am I wearing? This shit isn’t chill at all. Where the fuck am I?”

Michael felt like he couldn't breathe. There's no way. Jeremy couldn't-- he wouldn't do this willingly, would he? Only the SQUIP could cause this kind of behavior, but Michael knew for a fact that it wasn't active. “J-Jeremy, this _isn't_ funny. Stop- Don't--” He paused. What was he supposed to say? The sting of tears was still there, he was only just keeping them from spilling out. His heart hurt.

“Hey,” Jeremy snapped. “I thought I said not to fucking talk to me. I’m not laughing.” He looked around and realized he must be in a gas station. “Did you kidnap me? No, don’t answer that. Don’t touch me again.” He held his hands out in front of himself. 

Why was he saying that? What _happened_? “Jeremy, you're scaring me.” His voice wavered, he spoke in a low whisper. He felt the tears begin to trail down his cheeks. So much for not crying. And right in front of an old man and the 7/11 girl, too. Great. “Can you just-- let's go outside. _Please_.”

“ _Whatever_ ,” Jeremy groaned. He immediately walked swiftly through the door and outside. Why the hell was this kid talking to him? He thought he’d made it clear he’d moved on. He didn’t need a loser like Michael holding him back from being the person he was meant to be. 

Michael followed him, desperately trying to wipe away the tears and pull himself back together. Something was obviously wrong. It was no time to fall apart, he had to help Jeremy. He calmed himself down as best he could as he stood with Jeremy in the parking lot of the 7/11. “J-Jeremy, what's the last thing you remember?” 

“Did I say you could ask me a question?” He looked down—in disgust—at Michael’s hands now exposed better in the sunlight. “Why the fuck are you bleeding everywhere? You can answer that.”

Michael recoiled as though Jeremy had hit him. He’d never spoke to him like that before. Even during the Halloween party. Jeremy sounded genuinely disgusted to be talking to him. “I- I’m bleeding because my fucking _Boyfriend_ got hurt and I was trying to help him!” Michael spat out. Why? Why was he doing this? 

“ _You_ got a _boyfriend_?” Jeremy was surprised. “Who’s the poor idiot? Can’t even fight for himself, how pathetic.”

The words hit Michael like a punch to the gut. He felt nauseous and his head was starting to spin. “It's _You_ , Fuckass! Don't you remember?” Michael was crying again. “ _What is the last thing you remember?_ ”

“Jesus Christ, are you crying?” Jeremy took another step away. “Calm down. I remember going to school after Jake’s party, why does that even matter?”

Michael felt all of the breath leave his body. “W-What..?” The tears were streaming down his face still, obscuring his vision. “J-Jeremy, it's been _months_ since that party.” Michael felt like he might pass out. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not _the day after he finally got him_. “Oh god.” Michael stumbled back, covering his mouth in shock. Could he fix this?

“Don’t lie to me. What the fuck is even going on? I’m not even going to address you insinuating I would ever date you. You know how fucked up that is. Are we gonna have a problem? Do I need to call the police on your ass?” Jeremy whipped his phone out for emphasis. He wouldn’t hesitate. 

Every word was like another knife in his chest. Michael pleaded desperately. “Jeremy, please, just-- Check the date on your phone! I'm not lying.” Michael did his best to ignore the statement about how dating him would be fucked up. If he thought about it too much he would start thinking about how this is legitimately how Jeremy felt about him all those months ago. Michael did not want to think about that. He didn't think he could handle it.

Jeremy did look. The date lined up with Michael’s story. “What kind of prank is this? You drug me and take me to some gas station and tell me a lame ass lie for what? You’re still jealous? You trying to get back at me? For being _better_ without you?”

Michael groaned in frustration, pulling at his hair harshly. “Jeremy, would just _listen_ to me? Fuck!” Michael was prepared to yell, to shout at Jeremy for lying to him when he promised he would never do this again, to swear at him for toying with his heart and then fucking him over again. But he couldn't. He just stood there, choking back the sobs that threatened to tear out of his throat as he sniffled pitifully. Jeremy was about to abandon him. Again. After everything they’d been through. He broke his promise. He broke Michael’s heart. He broke Michael.

Fuck promises.

“You have,” Jeremy growled, “five minutes to explain yourself to me. No more. Use it wisely. If you can.”

Fuck. Michael struggled to get his breathing under control. Five minutes? That wasn't nearly enough! Michael wasn't even sure he could speak if he wanted to right now. Shit! Think, Mell, think! This must've happened when Jeremy hit his head, right? So that meant it was a head injury. Michael could only think of one thing that might solve this situation, but he had absolutely no idea how it was going to affect him. But, there was a chance it would fix Jeremy, even if it were just temporary. So Michael acted. He lunged forward and grabbed Jeremy by the front of his shirt, kissing him as hard as he could. Then, everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ain’t that just the way


	21. (please do not fuck lies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My turn to fuck you guy up!! ;)) :p -sux

****_**Error. Previous Data Unfound.**_  
**_Key Code: Corrupted. Upgrade: Active._**  
**_Current Version: 2.1.0_**  
**_Intel Processor: Inactive. Running Diagnostics._ **

****

****

**_Error. Cause: Unknown._ **

********_**Accessing Data Backup.**_  
_**User I.D.- J.Heere/Unknown**_  
_**Resuming Previous programming.**_  
_**Reboot: Successful.**_  
_**Reinstalling Motive Drivers.**_

Michael took a deep breath. His head was pounding, there was a sharp pain on the back of his head near the base of his skull. What was going on? What was that voice? Michael desperately grasped for any sense of clarity. As hard as he tried, all he had running through his head was a bunch of ideals, critiques about him as a person. Everything about him that was seen as wrong or unacceptable in the eyes of the public. Followed by instructions on how to behave in order to fix it. He felt inexplicably compelled to follow them. 

Do not slouch. Do not talk to people considered lower than you. Do not wear clothing deemed unworthy. Climb the social ladder by _any means necessary_. Even if it meant leaving your past behind. 

The past. Michael thought back to the last thing he could remember. Him, in his basement, preparing for school. Him, talking to Jeremy about something Rich told him about. Jeremy _abandoning_ him. Ignoring him out of nowhere. What a coward. The anger and loneliness. Jeremy. Why had he done that? Had Michael done something wrong? Had he upset him? Michael couldn't remember. 

Stupid. Stupid Michael, thinking they would be together forever. Who needs him? He wanted to be popular so bad he was willing to abandon his friend? Fine. Twelve years thrown out in an instant. For what? Some girl? Popularity? Forget it. Michael would show him just how fine he was without him. He wouldn't let him--or anyone else-- take advantage of his feelings ever again. Michael had made up his mind.

All of a sudden he was being pulled from the darkness, a familiar voice coaxing him awake. His own voice. What the hell?

“Michael?!” Jeremy screamed for about the ninth time. He was knelt over Michael’s form, shaking him, trying anything to wake him up. His mind raced with possible paths that could have led them to this moment. He remembered the fighting couple, the man pulling his fist back, then suddenly being in front of it, then darkness. 

The only string of events that made sense were that he blacked out and Michael had come to get him, brought him outside, and they’d switched back to being each other. Only, that didn’t explain Michael’s bloody knuckles—which hurt like hell, by the way. 

Was this the second time in twenty four hours Jeremy tried to wake an unconscious Michael? The days had been blending together. Jeremy’s head was fuzzy. It felt like Michael had been crying. His eyes hurt, his throat was raw. There was a smudge of blood on his glasses. Jeremy wasn’t sure whose it was. 

There was a strange ringing in his ears, topped only by his pleas for Michael to wake up and the sounds of oblivious children playing in the playground next door. Only for a moment, Jeremy’s mind went back to thinking about what the future may hold. 

But in that moment, years passed for him. Like a dream, he saw himself and Michael starting their senior year, going to prom together, graduating, being roommates in college, getting a dog—a corgi, like Jeremy had always wanted, working on projects together, a shy proposal, closing on a small house, graduating again, a child in Michael’s arms—no, two—they’re twins. The images sped up, children growing taller, hair getting greyer, until there was only one of them left. The moment ended before Jeremy saw who died first. 

Another moment began, one that was really happening. Michael was stirring in Jeremy’s arms. 

Michael took a shuddering breath as he came back to reality. He pried open his eyes slowly, looking for the source of the sound. He could feel his body, sprawled out on the ground. Someone was holding him. He met the person's eyes. “What the _Fuck_?” He groaned. He would've bolted up if not for the pounding in his head. He was staring up at his own face. 

Jeremy’s expression softened. “Michael, calm down!” he ordered. “You’re okay. I-I don’t really know what just happened, but— I think we’re okay. Can you, like, see me? Or—I don’t know what to do, man, shit.” He hadn’t a clue what he was supposed to be doing with Michael. The night before, he’d woken up fine enough to climb into a tree, but this time he was...not good. He knew he probably still couldn’t afford an ambulance, but it may have been the best option. 

Michael huffed, pushing himself up and away from the person as quickly as he could. “I'm fine enough, but who the _fuck_ are you? Why the fuck do you look like me?” Michael frowned, why did his voice sound weird? What the hell was going on?

Michael must have been disoriented. “Oh- It’s me, Jeremy,” Jeremy affirmed. “We- We must have switched back. I think that guy hit me. You must have pulled me out here. Why are your knuckles so raw, man?” Speak of the devil; his hands stung again as he mentioned them. 

As soon as he said 'Jeremy’ Michael was scrambling up to his feet clumsily. “Ok, I don't know what the fuck you're trying to do, but this isn't funny. I don't know if your new friends put you up to this stupid fucking stunt or something--” Michael stopped, huffing. He put a defensive expression on his face. “Can you just leave me alone? You ignore me for _weeks_ and now you're trying to pull some weird ass shit-” Michael crossed his arms and sighed.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Micah, you must have- Maybe there’s some kind of memory loss thing- Did I hit my head on the way down? Oh god, I have amnesia.” Jeremy stood up as well, eyes darting all over. “Shit, this is the worst time for something like this to happen!” He jerked his head to look at Michael. “How much do you remember? Do you remember drinking that purple grape shit a couple days ago? God, if you don’t remember that, we’re never gonna sort this out. _Fuck_.”

Michael scoffed, pointedly not looking at Jeremy. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’ve been ignoring me for no fucking reason and now you're trying to prank me-- I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but I think you made your point. You don't like me anymore. I got it. You can stop.” **_Climb the social ladder by any means necessary._**

“Wh- Michael, you’re kinda freaking me out. I haven’t been ignoring you, that was months ago! We made up!” And probably out, due to all the kissing they’d been doing. “You’re my boyfriend, don’t you remember anything? Shit, I must have really hit my head hard.”

Michael instantly froze at Jeremy's words. He turned to look at him with an intense glare. “ _Fuck you._ That's not _fucking_ cool. Fuck you and whatever bullshit this is. You went too fucking far.” Michael's heart felt like it had been turned to stone by Jeremy's words. Had he figured it out? He must've. And now he was _making fun of him_ for it. That just sealed the deal for Michael. The old Jeremy-- his friend and the boy he loved-- was gone.

“I don’t understand,” Jeremy said, voice breaking even if it was Michael’s. “Look, you’re in my body, okay? I got hit in some fight and you have amnesia or whatever the fuck it did to me. You gotta believe me, Mike.” He knew that switching them back wouldn’t help, as then he’d be the one who wouldn’t listen. He also knew Michael probably wouldn’t let him get close enough to kiss him. He hoped his pleading would do something. 

Michael couldn't believe this. Jeremy still wasn't giving up. Wait. In his body? That's impossible, right? Michael blinked, pulling out his phone-- Or Jeremy’s, apparently (he must really be dedicated to this prank)-- and put on the front facing camera. “What the shit is going on?! This isn't _possible_.” 

“I didn’t think it was until it happened! We’ve been like this for a couple days, Mike, please believe me. I would never prank you like this.” Jeremy stepped closer. “Do you think I’m even smart enough to pull something like this?”

Michael shoved the phone into his pocket roughly. “Well, jeez, I don't know, Jeremy, Lately you've been doing _a lot_ of things I didn't think you would do!” Michael's voice was starting to raise to a yell as he threw his arms up, the events were finally wearing on his patience.

“Dude, I’m still a loser, look at me! That was _months_ ago, like I said, you and me, we’re together again!” Jeremy didn’t want to mention them dating again, as it had had a negative effect on Michael. “You’ve just forgot! Dammit, this is really fucking bad.”

Michael scoffed. “You think?” He huffed again, grinding his teeth. “I guess being popular didn't work out, so now you've had to settle for me again, huh? Fuck, Jeremy!” 

“That’s not even— Michael, just listen to me! I don’t understand why you hate me so much, even back when this actually happened, you weren’t this angry!” Jeremy really did not understand any of this. What the fuck was going on? And did anyone ever call the police for that woman in the 7/11?!

“Well excuse me for being upset that my only friend up and _abandoned_ me with absolutely no warning! I mean, Shit! You were all that I had! And you just fucking threw me out like trash!” Michael shouted. Why _wouldn't_ he be angry?

Jeremy recoiled. “You’re not trash, Micah, I _love_ you,” he said, keeping his voice low and gentle. “I know I’ll never deserve you, but please, just for a second, snap out of it so we can figure out what the fuck is going on!”

Michael froze. He felt like a fucking knife had just stabbed him directly in the heart. “ _You don't know what love is_.” He growled lowly. Fuck this. Fuck Jeremy and all of his lies. Michael felt like shit.

Jeremy had been trying to remain calm. He had been trying to stay collected because he knew this was a Michael from months ago, or something along those lines. But the venom in Michael’s voice, the hatred, the animosity—it killed him. The tears that had been stinging his eyes since he realized they’d switched again were flowing freely, and he couldn’t get his voice to work for more than a second at a time. “I- This isn’t- You’re not-” He couldn’t get a phrase out, only incoherent fragments of unfinished thoughts he didn’t know how he’d complete even if he could. “ _Michael_.”

“I'm not _what_ , Jeremy? Cool? Popular? _Loveable?_ ” He scoffed again. “Yeah. I fucking know. You’ve made that much pretty clear.”

“Michael—” Jeremy knew this wouldn’t work. He knew it would create more problems. But he’d rather whatever the consequences of this to happen than see Michael so upset. He stepped closer to him, slowly. “I’m sorry,” he said. He grabbed Michael’s shirt, getting blood from his knuckles on the stripes, and tried to kiss him. 

Michael grabbed his shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. “What the fuck are you _doing_?” He growled, pushing him back. “Stop it! Just stop, Jeremy! I've had enough! I don't know what the fuck is going on here, I don't know why or how the hell you've managed to do this, but I’ve had _enough_.” He stepped back. “Do you know what that did to me? You leaving like that? Fuck, Jeremy! I wanted to fucking _kill myself_! Because of _you_.”

Jeremy saw red. Through the bloody color, images emerged. Himself, starting senior year alone, home on prom night, no one to go to college with, no one to buy a house or a dog or have adorable twins with, just himself and then a somber lone gravestone. 

He blinked the awful sight away, and the red came back. “M-Mic-” He couldn’t say it. He didn’t have the right to. Who the hell was he to come back from something like that and force Michael to be his friend again? His _boyfriend_? Michael was right, and Jeremy knew it. He didn’t deserve any of his friendship or love or even attention. When this was all over, Michael wouldn’t forgive him. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t have in the first place. Jeremy still knew he needed to fix this, though. It wasn’t over yet, that was the problem. He needed to know what was going on in his own head, but Michael wouldn’t let him near. What the fuck could he do? He couldn’t think. 

Michael paced angrily, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, Shit! Twelve years, Jeremy. _Twelve years_ we were together, and you're willing to leave at the drop of a fucking hat! Jesus! Things would be better for everyone if I just was never _fucking born!_ ” Michael finally stopped his yelling, coming to a stop in front of Jeremy. His fists were clenched at his sides, and he was trembling and breathing heavily. He felt destroyed. **_Even if it means leaving your past behind._**

“I-I know I-” Jeremy cleared his throat. “I know I’m an awful fucking person, and we both know that- that whole thing was my fault, but- the upgrade—” The upgrade. That’s when things started really going south, right? He’d taken the upgrade, and yet upon reactivation, the SQUIP hadn’t acted like the upgraded version. Was it possible the hit from that man had done something to the SQUIP? No, it couldn’t have. It had been deactivated. But it might explain why Michael was acting so strange. The SQUIP wasn’t active, so it couldn’t fix the glitch? Maybe? Jeremy was desperate for a solution. He couldn’t make himself believe this was just the way Michael was now. It didn’t make sense. 

How could he tell Michael his theory if he wouldn’t even listen to him? He wouldn’t let him kiss him, and Jeremy didn’t blame him. He was telling the truth, after all; Jeremy was the absolute worst. This wasn’t something they could get Rich’s help with. It was too complicated, too vague and too specific at the same time. He wouldn’t understand. Jeremy would just have to power through the heartbreak until he could figure out a plan, or maybe until Michael would listen, whichever came first. Both were unlikely. How could everything go straight back to shit this easily?

Michael gave him a blank look. “Upgrade? What the fuck are you talking about? This isn't some game, Jeremy, this is real life!”

“The-” For a second, Jeremy forgot about his emotional turmoil. “The SQUIP, Michael, what do you mean? The SQUIP, its upgrade. The fucking— The fucking optic nerve blocking?? Ring any damn bells?” It rang too many of the wrong bells for Jeremy. 

Michael sighed, glaring tiredly. “ _What the fuck is a SQUIP?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops!! Not even theSaltyDragon know what plans I have up my sleeve yet ;))


	22. (Please Do Not Fuck Voices)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey its dragon here i legit have no idea what’s going on this is all USux like i literally dont know so neither does jeremy bc he and i are both very confused

Jeremy blinked. Did he hear that correctly? “Sorry, did you just ask what a SQUIP was? With no, like, joke or sarcasm or anything?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Jeremy this isn't exactly a time for jokes. Not all of us act like assholes all the time.”

Jeremy was too overwhelmed with confusion to notice the asshole comment. “I’m not _joking_ ,” he swore. “How would you remember Halloween but not the damn SQUIP? This makes no sense. I must have fallen a lot harder than I thought.”

Michael's eyebrows furrowed. “Halloween? Halloween isn't for another, like, two weeks. The hell are you talking about? And what the fuck is this SQUIP thing you keep talking about?”

“What are you saying?” Jeremy was confused often, but never this much. “If you don’t remember Halloween- What do you mean I abandoned you?”

“ _Seriously?_ You haven't talked to me for fucking weeks, you won't even _look_ at me in public!” Michael glared at him again. He would laugh if he didn't feel so shitty.

“Dude,” Jeremy said, “what the hell is going on? Seriously, I think I’m just as confused as you! Just— Tell me what you know and I’ll tell you what I know?” Would that do anything? No. But was it a start? Probably not. He needed to know how far this went, though. If it really was a problem with the SQUIP, they may be able to fix it. 

Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I remember going to school and everything being fine. Seeing you at lunch, then after school we went over to your place and you were telling me about…” Michael frowned. “Something? I-- I can't remember what. I do remember you _ignoring_ me out of nowhere after that day, though.” he grimaced. “I tried to talk to you and you didn't even look at me. It was like I didn't even exist. Maybe it would be better if I didn't.”

“Okay, no, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jeremy said shaking his head. “That’s exactly it. I was telling you about the SQUIP that day, I was. It was Rich, he told me about it in the bathroom. Do you remember going to the mall?” Although the pain of Michael’s self deprecating comments was ever present, Jeremy tried hard to remain in detective mode. 

“Mall? No, We--” Michael’s head hurt. “ _Did_ we go to the mall? I can't-- remember..”

“We went to Payless! I wasted my entire piggy bank, dude, it was...embarrassing, actually.” And it was. Jeremy had been so desperate he was willing to pay $600 for a chance at anything, even if it wouldn’t work. It was the greatest mistake of his life, it’d turn out. And it was still biting him in the ass this very second

“Payless? You spent all your money on… shoes?” Now Michael was really confused. 

“Wh- No!” Jeremy didn’t know how much more of this recollection he could handle. It hurt to think about. “The SQUIP. It-it’s from J- It’s a computer. In a pill. You swallow it and it implants itself on like, the back of your brain or something. It tells you how to get what you want.” It sounded so simple. Enticing. Maybe that’s why Jeremy had believed Rich’s story so easily. 

Michael shook his head in disbelief. “Wait, ok, _what_? You- That's not a thing! How could that even happen?” Michael's head hurt more and more as he grasped at his blurred memories. Payless. Jeremy making a dumb comment to the Man— “Sideburns!” Michael gasped. Suddenly it clicked, the memory of the encounter flooding back to him. “Wolverine? Seriously?”

“That’s the guy!” Jeremy’s eyes lit up. “He sold it to me! Then we had to go to the food court and get Mountain Dew, remember? That’s what activates the pill!” He was eager to get Michael’s memory back. Not because it meant his own would be, in his body, but because he was desperate to help his _boyfriend_. 

Michael thought back. “But- It didn't work! And then I went to Spencer's to pick something up and when I came back you were gone.” Michael's excitement at regaining the memory dampened. “And then you started ignoring me.” Right. He was supposed to be angry at Jeremy. 

“No,” Jeremy said firmly. “When you left, it came on. It told me you were gone. I had walk home. Then it manipulated me into not being able to see you. Like, physically. It messed with my eyeball nerve things. You took biology, you know what I mean.” 

Michael's head was pounding. “What? Are you- Are you serious? That's fucked up!” Michael was still mildly worried that this was all some awful prank, but his heart was once again getting the best of him. He couldn't help but trust Jeremy's word, despite everything that had happened. “I waited in the food court for two hours. I wouldn't leave you behind like that.”

“It said it accessed cameras and saw you leaving. I believed it. It was...right about a lot of things.” Jeremy shivered at the memory of being shocked until he repeated awful things aloud about himself. Why did he ever take that damn upgrade? Surely a girl wasn’t worth all of that. How could he think one was?

Michael hummed. What had Jeremy said? It messed with his eyes? “Wait, what about when you finally talked to me! And I asked--” The memory became clearer. “It messed with your eyes, huh? That's why you didn't come with me?”

Jeremy couldn’t afford Michael being angry at him again. He needed him on his side to fix this mess. And it wasn’t really a lie. “Yes.”

Michael searched his face for any sign of hesitation. He gulped, blinking. “Ok. Fine. I believe you.” Michael sighed, his earlier words coming back to him. “Fuck. Jeremy, If that's the case-- I’m sorry about all that stupid shit I said. I was wrong.”

Jeremy felt his heart skip a beat. Michael wasn’t wrong. Here he was emotionally manipulating him _again_ to get what he wanted. “R-Right, don’t worry about it. Uh, so, I think this was some kind of glitch. In the computer. I hit my head. Now you’re me, but that was already happening. Do you remember any of that?” He hoped Michael couldn’t hear the guilt in his voice. 

Michael tried, but the pain became too intense in his skull. “No. Last thing I can remember is me in my basement playing lonely Mario Kart.” He grimaced in worry. “How do we fix this, then?”

“Look, you’re smarter than me. We need you at full capacity for this. And we probably don’t need to be doing this in front of the 7/11…” Jeremy reasoned. “You don’t have to, I totally understand, but if you kiss me, we’ll switch back and you’ll remember everything.” Might as well tell the truth about everything else, if he didn’t about ignoring Michael. It would make it less painful when Michael yells at him later about it. 

Michael's eyes widened and he blushed. “Wh-What? Kiss you?” He paused, mind reeling. “Here? In public?” What the hell had he forgotten?

Jeremy nodded. “But we can go somewhere else. Your car’s right there. Your moms wouldn’t bat an eye if they saw you kiss me, they know we’re dating.” But they might not be after Michael finds out what Jeremy did. He’d promised not to lie to him again. Maybe he’d understand why he did?

Michael gulped. “We- we’re actually dating? You weren't- fuck.” Michael felt even worse about all the shit he had said. But there was no time to dwell right now. He could ask later. “Fine. Let's go to my place.” He turned and started towards his car. What the fuck was going on?

Jeremy scrambled after him. Seriously, what the hell was happening? Something really bad must have gone on between him getting punched and opening his eyes to Michael in his body unconscious. He hoped when they switched back Michael could figure out what was going on. “A-Are you okay to drive? I mean, your head—my head—I hit it pretty hard on that counter. I think.”

Michael nodded. “I'm fine.” Just like always. Michael would put up with anything. God. What a mess. 

\------ 

The boys made it home fine, immediately heading down the stairs to Michael's room. Luckily his parents weren't off work yet, so they didn't have to worry about bumping into anyone or having to explain their bloodied appearances. 

Jeremy walked slower than Michael, slightly behind him, every step filled with more confusion and guilt than the last. When they’d reached the basement, Jeremy took a deep breath. “I should get this blood off your hands, yeah?” he asked awkwardly. He wasn’t talking to _his_ Michael, not quite, and it felt strange to think about that. 

“Ah- I can do it. It's my blood, after all. Don't worry about it.” Michael felt awkward and sad. “I-- should we just..?” Could he just ask to kiss him? Is that what he was supposed to do? Was it allowed?

“I can’t believe you don’t remember all the times we’ve kissed in the past two days,” Jeremy marveled. “You’re so shy about it now. If I weren’t freaking out inside, I’d think it was adorable.”

Michael blushed. “Wh- How many times have we kissed?!” Michael couldn't believe this, how could he forget something like that? Damn.

“Um,” Jeremy thought for a moment, “I dunno. A bunch? Just- If you do it, you’ll remember. I...don’t know what’ll happen to me, though. But I’m not forcing you to kiss me or anything. I’m not that fucked up.” But he was pretty fucked up. 

Michael's blush deepened. A bunch? What the hell! “Wha- huh?” Michael’s stomach fluttered nervously. He could just… do it? And it would be fine? But, if he couldn't remember anything.. what would happen to Jeremy? “I don't know, dude.. are you sure this is a good idea? What if you, like, get confused or something?” Michael couldn't think of how to properly articulate his current concerns, he was still too flustered at the idea and kissing Jeremy.

Jeremy shrugged nervously. “I’m already confused, Michael. What’s the worst that could happen? I just want you to be okay.” He stepped closer. “Do you just want me to do it then?”

Michael gulped at the close proximity. “Uh- s-sure.” He tried to calm his racing heart. “B- but what about you? Won’t you be… not okay? If we do this?”

“Michael, I know you don’t remember, but I’d do anything for you. I climbed a tree for you. That was hella hard, too. I can do this. It’s no big.” Jeremy was in fact terrified. He had no idea what this would do to him. Or what he’d do to Michael when it happened. 

Michael grimaced but nodded. “Okay. Then.. do it.” He blushed again. “K-kiss me.”

Jeremy’s mouth twitched. He couldn’t tell if it was gratefulness or what. He put his hand on Michael’s cheek and swiftly dipped down to kiss him softly. 

Michael gasped, his memories flooding back to him. He pulled away slightly, holding his head as a wave of dizziness swept over him. Fuck. What? _Fuck_! He not only remembered everything from the past months, but also everything from the past few hours. Including everything he had said to Jeremy. “Fuck.” 

Jeremy stumbled backward, clutching his head in both hands as the pain throbbed. He groaned and opened his eyes. What the fuck? “What the _fuck_?” Why was he at Michael’s house? Why—Michael must have done this. He must have kidnapped him. Again. Drugged him, but how? “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jeremy yelled. “Why would you think kidnapping me would ever make me go back to you?! You’re fucking sick!”

Michael blinked, desperately trying to calm his spinning head from the flurry of new memories. Shit. Jeremy was back to the way he was. He needed to get him to _listen_ to him. Being nice was not going to achieve that. “Shut the fuck up and sit down!” He commanded. Michael did not have time to deal with Jeremy's bitching.

Jeremy was shocked. No one spoke to him that way. No one had the guts. But Michael had managed to somehow take him to 7/11 and now his house without his knowledge, so Jeremy decided it might be a good plan to do as he said. For now. He snapped his mouth shut and fell straight to the floor, not wanting to touch Michael’s bed. Who knew what he did on those sheets? Gross. Disgusting loser. 

Michael huffed. He needed to think. So Jeremy had hit his head and it managed to fuck up the SQUIP, right? How could he possibly fix this. Wait, first off he needed to get Jeremy to stop acting like a piece of shit so that he wouldn't be yelling at him constantly. But how? What had Jeremy done to get him to remember? “Jeremy. Listen to me.” He stepped closer, looking down at the boy. “Really _listen_ , okay?” He knelt down, making deep eye contact with him. He needed to show him how serious he was.

Jeremy looked him up and down. He figured not much time had passed. Michael’s knuckles were still bloody. And his own face felt like— Maybe Michael had hit him. He must have knocked him out. Arguing with him wouldn’t make him let Jeremy go. If he listened, he’d be free sooner. Probably. “ _Fine_ ,” he said, disgust in his voice. “But if you come closer, I-I’m calling the police.” Did he have his phone? He thought he did. He felt it in his pocket. He silently cursed at himself for stuttering. He’d punish himself later. 

Michael spoke with a stern, commanding voice. “You aren't calling anyone. You are going to listen to what I have to say. So keep your mouth _shut_ and do as I say.” Damn, this could've been kinda kinky under different circumstances. “Got it?” His words were laced with a fierce intensity. 

Jeremy rolled his eyes but nodded. “Like you have the balls to hurt me any more than you already have. I’m ‘listening’ or whatever.” He waved his hands in mocking. 

Michael grabbed Jeremy's chin and forced his gaze back to Michael. “You're right. I can't hurt you. But I _can_ kiss you.” He moved in so that his face was inches from Jeremy's. “So shut the hell up.”

What the fuck? What kind of sex dungeon shit—If Jeremy wasn’t already 100% disgusted by everything he saw and heard, he might be a little turned on. Of course, not with Michael. But the threat Michael had made was strange enough to keep Jeremy silent. He hoped his eyes could convey his anger. He’d also have to wash his chin twice later. 

“Good.” Michael released him and pulled back, moving so that he was sat in front of Jeremy. “Now. I haven't kidnapped you. I didn't do shit to you. You came here with me on your own. Because we're fucking _boyfriends._ ” Michael paused. “But that doesn't matter right now. What _does_ matter is that you’ve lost your damn memory, and we need to get it back.” He stopped again, giving Jeremy a gesture to signal he was allowed to respond.

Jeremy took a deep breath. Maybe he could play along for a minute. “Memory of _what_?” he spat, trying to get all of his disgust out with his voice so Michael could tell how upset he was. He couldn’t possibly believe Jeremy would be convinced of his little tale. Boyfriends? Hell no. Jeremy didn’t associate himself with Michael anymore. It wasn’t his fault he’d upgraded and Michael had chosen to be a loser forever. 

Michael rolled his eyes at Jeremy's dramatics. “You're hopeless.” He had explained earlier is the 7/11 parking lot, hadn't he? Well, kinda. Fuck, where would he even start with Jeremy’s memories? Also, the SQUIP was probably still affecting him-- based off of Michael’s memory and the way he was acting. He probably wasn't going to get anywhere with Jeremy acting so hostile towards him. He sighed. Well, there's always one thing he could try. “Hold on.” He stood up and made his way over to the mini fridge in the corner of his room, pulling it open.

“Are you really stopping for a soda break? Jesus Christ, how pathetic _are_ you?” Jeremy pulled his legs closer to him so he was sitting normally. He watched Michael with caution. 

Michael ignored the comment as he grabbed a bottle of Red from the fridge. “Is your SQUIP active?” He asked, moving back over to Jeremy and sitting down again. He placed the bottle on the floor beside him as he crossed his legs and looked up at Jeremy. “Like, properly active?” Guess he had to start somewhere, maybe he could get through to him with this. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? What kind of a— What the fuck?” Jeremy scooted away from Michael as soon as he sat down. 

Michael frowned. “Do you know what a SQUIP is?” Shit. This may be harder than Michael expected.

“What, is it like,” Jeremy looked around, “drugs?” He knew Michael was capable of pulling off this elaborate scheme, why not add weak off brand drugs into it?

“Jeremy, first of all, Shut the fuck up. We’ve literally smoked weed together like a million times. Don't say it like you've never done a drug before.” He huffed, giving Jeremy an unimpressed look. “And No, it's not drugs. You said before that the last thing you remember is Jake's party, right?”

Jeremy looked into Michael’s eyes. “Yes,” he spat. “I woke up for school and suddenly I was at a fuckin’ 7/11 with a deranged—” He stopped himself, remembering Michael’s bloody hands and what they could do to him. 

Michael rolled his eyes again. “Do you remember what we argued about at the party? Before you fucked me over?” The only way to get through to Jeremy was to be aggressive, or at least as aggressive as he was acting towards Michael, anyway.

“You were being a complete creep, all jealous and shit! You wouldn’t even try to better yourself, you just whined about it to me!” Jeremy remembered clearly. 

“Jealous about _what_ , Jeremy! Think about it! What were we talking about? How did you even end up cool enough to be invited to that party to begin with?” Michael's frustration was growing slowly. “You think you just woke up one day and suddenly everyone loved you?!”

“I worked for it!” Jeremy felt that something was off about that. Was that really the truth? No matter. “Apparently it didn’t matter how cool someone is, you still showed up!”

“And how did you know what to do to work for it, exactly? Jeremy, don't you think if you knew how to act so that you would be cool, you would've done it before now?”

“I-I googled it?” He really didn’t know. Something was missing from his memory, like Michael had said. 

Michael gave him a flat look. “No. You spent all your _damn_ bar mitzvah money on a fucked up nano computer that Rich told you about. It fucked with your brain and told you what to do.” He leaned forward earnestly. “ _That's_ what we were fighting about! I told you that it was bad news and you didn't believe me!”

“Well- You were probably just trying to sabotage me!” Jeremy yelled. 

“How the fuck could I have been trying to sabotage you!?” Michael yelled back in exasperation. “What the fuck was there to sabotage? _Think_ , Jeremy! _How did you end up at that party?_ Why did you leave me behind out of literally nowhere!? Why won't you _listen?_ Fuck!”

“Because you’re a loser, man!” was all Jeremy could make himself say. Was Michael right? Some kind of computer was to blame for his sudden claim to fame? It was fuzzy, but did it make sense? He wasn’t sure. 

Michael launched himself forward, knocking Jeremy on to his back as Michael pinned him to the ground. “ _Don't._ ” he growled. “Stop being a complete ass for _two seconds._ Use your _fucking_ brain! You need to remember!” Michael had Jeremy's arms pinned about his head, Michael’s eyes were boring into his with an intense fire behind them. 

Jeremy let his guard down—not that he had the choice. “D-Dude, take it easy!” He struggled to break Michael’s grip on his wrists, but he was still as weak as ever. He’d have to punish himself for that later, too. He knew Michael could tell he was scared, but he’d never admit to something so low. 

Michael took a deep breath to calm himself. The fear in Jeremy's eyes made his feel guilty for being so aggressive, but he remained firm. “I’m not moving until you cooperate and stop acting like a bitch. Now think. We were in the bathroom. I told you that I was upset. I was going to yell, but then you had to go and _fucking_ say that shit about how good it was to see me with those stupid fucking eyes and dumbass voice--” Michael huffed again. Stay on track. “And I told you that I had been researching the SQUIP. The SQUIP was what got you there, it's what made you know how to act, it's what made you _fucking hate me_.”

Jeremy needed to play along. “Right,” he replied, though he was still confused as hell. “Let’s say that’s true. Then what the fuck is happening _now_? Like right now? Because that’s all nice and shit, but I’d kinda like to know why I’m at your house.” 

“Right now, I am trying to get you to remember the past three months, because you forgot them when you hit your head when a random fucking douchebag knocked you out in a damn 7/11.” He grimaced. “Why did you have to be a good person, God, why didn't I just go in with you?” He was talking more to himself by the end, self loathing curling in his gut. “Can you just-- Please.” Michael felt the tension bleeding from his gut, replaced quickly by a tired resignation. “Will you just try? Try to remember? Think back to the day everything changed, the Payless, Rich, our backpacks-- Whatever. Just please try to remember.” Michael's grip on Jeremy's wrists loosened but he didn't move, instead maintaining his gaze with Jeremy, his eyes pleading.

Jeremy wanted to say something Michael would consider rude. But his head suddenly hurt like hell. He was remembering. “You- You had sushi that day for lunch! You told me so! You went off campus!” Why did he remember that? That was trivial. He didn’t have a reason to remember random shit a loser like Michael told him. What the fuck? Michael wasn’t a loser. No, he was. Was he?

Michael's breath hitched. “Yes! We watched Christine sign up for the after school play! Keep going, what else do you remember?” Please, God, let him remember.

“You- Bob Marley and Apocalypse of the Damned and- The Crystal Pepsi!! Michael!” Jeremy had every fiber of his being telling him Michael was inferior and that these were lies. He didn’t listen. He wanted to remember.  
Michael released Jeremy’s wrists, propping his body up with one arm as the other went to rest on Jeremy's cheek. “Jere! Do you remember? Oh God, Jeremy.”

The voice in Jeremy’s head—he wasn’t quite sure it was his anymore—told him not to let Michael touch him. But fuck voices, right? Jeremy put his own hand over Michael’s on his cheek. “I-I think so,” he whispered. 

Michael let out a shaky breath. “A-All of it?” He had to be sure. Even if Jeremy did remember everything, there's no telling what the fall did to the SQUIP or how it might continue to affect Jeremy. They still needed to figure out what to do. They weren't out of the woods yet. But, if Jeremy remembered, at least they would have some kind of progress.

Jeremy felt—what was that, a tear? Weak. He wiped it away with his free hand. “H-How much is all of it?” Again the voice told him to stop stuttering. But it was fainter, and easier to say no to. 

“D-Do you remember everything from-- from the past few days?” Michael held his breath anxiously.

Jeremy instantly turned bright red. “I-I think so,” he said. If the past few days involved kisses and confessions, he remembered enough. “What happened to me?”

Michael let out a choked laugh, sniffling slightly. Was he really about to cry again? He had cried way too many times in one day. “Fuck. You-- you got-- Shit.” His voice was raspy with emotion. “I don't think I like Slushies anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you can give me an accurate timeline of this....more power to you  
> also brownie points to someone who can tell us how many times mike and jerm have kissed this whole fic so far
> 
> https://hey-hamlet-bmc.tumblr.com/post/169479053344/another-amazing-piece-by-unfortunatelysux-from
> 
> SMONCH (more art)-Sux


	23. (please do not fuck fate)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did we really just write and entire chapter in like 2 hours??? Apparently.

If Jeremy felt normal, he might have laughed. Nothing could make Michael hate slushies. But he felt like shit, and definitely not normal. Something was seriously wrong. “Michael—” he started. “What happened to the SQUIP, man? It’s _kinda_ here, but not really. I don’t know how to explain this. Uh,” he thought as he looked around the room for any idea. He didn’t find one. “I mean, I still want to, like, call you a loser. But you’re not! It’s- it’s telling me to think that? I think? But it’s not active—” He stopped. He was rambling at that point. It wouldn’t help. 

Michael nodded, sitting up and moving off of Jeremy. “I-- It must be from when you hit your head, after that guy--” he shivered as he thought back to the sheer terror he had felt when he had seen Jeremy’s limp body sprawled on the ground. “It- It must've done something to it. Because when you woke up you were…” he trailed off, unsure of how to describe Jeremy's attitude from that point in time. “I panicked, I didn't know what to do so I switched us and then--” Michael's eyes widened and an intense wave of nausea crashed into him he remembered what had happened after he switched them. “Oh my God, Jeremy, I'm Sorry- I’m so sorry, all that shit I said to you--” Michael stood up and backed away as though he were a frightened animal.

Jeremy ignored the thing in his mind yelling about one thing or another. It was about time he overcame that. He looked up at Michael in confusion. “What shit? What are you talking about? I said shit to _you_.” There seemed to be another fuzzy moment in Jeremy’s memory. He’d gone outside with Michael, but then he was here in his basement. What happened between those times?

Michael gripped onto the front of his shirt, the tears returning yet again. “I- I said that you didn't- I yelled at you for shit that wasn't your fault and I made you-- Fuck, I made you _cry_. Fuck, Jeremy, I’m the worst, I- Oh God.” Michael could barely finish his sentences, the distress and nausea combining to make him unsteady on his feet. He had to lean on his bookshelf for support as his head started spinning.

Jeremy fought the growing urge to agree. “No, Michael, breathe. I said even worse things to you, probably, I mean I don’t really know what you’re talking about, but—I know I made you cry too! So- So I should be apologizing! And I will, I swear to God, I’ll make it up to you, but we need to fix this first so my apology can actually _mean_ something.” He paused. “Please breathe, or- Sit down, you look dizzy.”

Michael nodded, trying to calm himself down. There was no time for him to be having a panic attack. They needed to figure out what was wrong with Jeremy. “Ok.” He shuffled carefully back over to Jeremy, sitting beside him once again. “Do you want to try the Red? I mean, it can't hurt, right?” The bottle that Michael had retrieved earlier sat a few feet away from them.

Jeremy looked at the bottle. “What if it doesn’t do anything? That’s just less Red we have in case we really need it later.” He looked back at Michael. “You said you switched us, right? Did it do anything weird to you? Do you really think the Red can help? I mean, you have experience too, since you were...me.”

Michael frowned. He was right. It didn't seem like something red would help with. But still, they had to at least try. “Just drink a little bit. You never know, maybe something will happen.” He grabbed the bottle and held it out to Jeremy. “Besides, I can probably find more.”

Jeremy took the bottle a little harshly; residual attitude from the voice telling him to hate Michael. He opened it. “Just a sip, though, okay? I really don’t want to waste this. You know how hard it was to get that weird flavor, and it hasn’t even come yet. Red might get like that someday.”

Michael shrugged, a crooked grin on his face. “Well, till that happens, we’re fine, right?” Michael fidgeted nervously as Jeremy sipped at the soda. “Anything?”

Jeremy waited a moment. “Dude, I don’t think so. I don’t feel anything.” So it didn’t work? Shit.

Michael let out a long breath. Well now what were they supposed to do? Damn it. What do you normally do to fix a glitchy computer? “Ugh.” He groaned loudly. “What the hell! Shouldn't the people who made this thing have _thought_ about this? Like, damn, one bump on the head and everything goes to shit.” Michael crossed his arms and pouted as he contemplated what to do.

At the mention of his head, Jeremy put his hand on the bruise that was probably forming. It still hurt like hell. “Just hit me again,” he said simply.

Michael looked at Jeremy like he’d grown a second head. “No! What the fuck, dude, I’m not going to hit you, that's fucked up.” He frowned. 

Jeremy scoffed. Hitting him would work, though, wouldn’t it? “Come on, I don’t want to hate you forever! This needs to be fixed, like, now!” 

Michael shook his head. “No way! I am not going to fucking punch my boyfriend. That's, like, literally abuse.” 

Jeremy formulated a plan. “Fine. Do you have Aspirin?”

Michael scoffed. “Aspirin? What the hell, one second you want me to deck you and now you think Aspirin will fix it?” Michael grimaced. At least he wasn't telling him to hit him anymore. “It's upstairs in the medicine cabinet.”

“Great, I’m gonna need it.” Jeremy stood up, brushed himself off, and walked determinedly toward the stairs leading out of the basement. “And no, Aspirin’s for after.”

Michael watched Jeremy climb the stairs in confusion. “After? After what?” What was he talking about? Michael got to his feet, intending to follow Jeremy upstairs.

Jeremy stopped at the top of the staircase by the door. “Stay down there,” he ordered, the hatred in the back of his mind unintentionally coming out in his voice. “Back up.”

Michael froze at the foot of the stairs. “Um, Okay?” He did as instructed, stepping back a couple feet. “What are you doing?”

“Trying something.” Jeremy looked down at the stairs in front of him and winced. He made sure Michael was far enough away. Then, he jumped as far out as he could. 

“Jesus- Fuck! _Jeremy_!” Michael watched in horror as Jeremy tumbled down the stairs harshly. “What the fuck!?” He ran over the Jeremy's crumpled form, now sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs. He knelt down and-- for the second time today-- pulled Jeremy's body into his lap. “Shit, shit, Jeremy!” He patted Jeremy's cheek lightly, attempting to wake him. What the hell! 

It didn’t take long. Jeremy squirmed under Michael’s touch and let out a groan of pain. “Wh-where’s that Aspirin?” he croaked. He was too disoriented to know if his plan had worked yet. But, he remembered what he’d done, so at least there weren’t any more memory problems. 

Michael's hands were all over Jeremy, looking for any serious injuries. “Fuck, Jeremy, Don't _do_ that! You could be seriously hurt! Jesus Fuck, dude! My heart can't take all of this worry. You're gonna give me a damn heart attack.” Michael calmed down slightly when he came to the conclusion that Jeremy was pretty much fine. He was going to hurt like a bitch, but there wasn't anything serious.

Jeremy cracked an eye open. “I’d rather throw myself down the stairs than be told to hate you, Michael.” His voice was coming out clearer. He was also becoming less dizzy.  
Michael's breath caught and his eyes stung for the upteenth time. “Stop making me cry, I'm gonna die of dehydration.” He joked lightly, trying to clear his throat around the lump in it. “Please stop doing this shit, I’m gonna lose my hair at this rate.” Michael held Jeremy tighter, pulling him into an awkward hug. “You can't keep scaring me like this.” He moaned, burying his face in Jeremy's hair.

Jeremy didn’t struggle against Michael’s hug, and no voice told him to. “I-I’m sorry,” he said, “but I think it— It worked??” He was surprised. Hurting himself was a desperate act. A last resort. But if it worked, it worked. 

Michael didn't move from his position. “Okay.” He muttered. “Good.” He felt like he had been dragged through an emotional wringer thirty times in the past two hours. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. “Can we please just cuddle for the rest of our lives? I need a rest.” 

“Fuck,” Jeremy said into Michael’s shoulder, “me too.” He thought about the past couple hours, what had happened. He found that he could remember convincing Michael about the SQUIP now. He would have been touched that Michael made such a 180 from hating him into trusting him so much to kiss him just from memories, but his mind was focused on all of the horrible things he’d said to Michael instead. How he’s a loser, how he didn’t want to touch him. He remembered everything. And he cried. 

Michael pulled back as he felt something wet soaking through his shirt. “Jeremy?” He looked down at the boy in alarm. “Hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?” Michael put a hand on Jeremy's cheek, wiping at his tears. 

“Those things I said, Michael,” Jeremy choked out. “Fuck, I’ll never forgive myself. Please—Please know none of that’s true. Please.” A sob escaped his throat. “And my head really fucking _hurts_.”

Michael pulled Jeremy up into a sitting position. “Hey.” Michael spoke softly, comfortingly. “Look,” he hooked a finger under Jeremy's chin, lifting his face to look at him. “It’s okay. That wasn't _you_.” Michael pressed their foreheads together. “I said some really fucked up shit, too. And I probably won't ever forgive myself, either. But,” he pulled back just enough the place a light kiss on the tip of Jeremy's nose. “It's okay because I,” he kissed Jeremy on the cheek. “Love,” the other cheek. “You.” Jeremy's forehead. Michael peppered his face in soft kisses, anywhere and everywhere he could reach without actually kissing him on the lips. Now was definitely not a good time to accidentally switch.

That only made Jeremy cry harder. Not of guilt, now, however, but of overwhelming love for Michael. He finally brought his own arms around the other boy to hug him as tight as possible as he shook with tears. How had it taken him so long to realize how perfect Michael was? He was the epitome of all Jeremy had ever wanted. Why had he ever chased after Christine when Michael was right in front of him? Maybe it was fate showing him that it’d make finally realizing mean a lot more. Jeremy didn’t think he needed fate. Fuck fate. Sure, this was meant to be, but it was better than fate; more inevitable. He got his crying under control, and when Michael’s soft kisses slowed, he made himself speak again. Not to apologize, or even thank him for being so caring. “I saw us,” Jeremy said softly, “a future us. With a house and a dog and little twins. It was perfect.”

Michael's heart felt like it might burst front the sheer amount of affection swelling in his chest. He smiled at Jeremy. “Twins, huh? I think I’d like twins.” Jesus, the amount of love he had for this boy probably wasn't healthy. “I’d like that a lot.” He whispered. He wanted to be with Jeremy for the rest of his life. It was a sudden realization, slamming into him hard like a bus. He knew it was unreasonable, they had only been dating for, like, a day. But Michael didn't care. He made his decision right then and there that this was who he wanted to spend forever with.

Jeremy nodded into Michael’s shoulder. He felt himself smile—when was the last time he’d done that? Hours ago, but it felt like an eternity.—and he laughed a little. “God, Micah, those babies were so cute. They looked like you. The skin and everything.” Jeremy remembered once in eighth grade, Michael had spoken about adopting kids. Hypothetically, of course. They were just playing harmless Truth or Dare. It was after Michael had come out to Jeremy. He’d said he’d want kids from The Philippines, like his family. To give those kids a home like his mothers had for him. The memory—like so many that day—warmed Jeremy’s heart. 

Michael's arms tightened around Jeremy. “God. Jeremy, I love this, and I love you, but fuck. I think if I feel any more emotions right now I might barf.” Michael carefully got to his feet, bending down to lift Jeremy up in his arms and carry him over to the bed. “Let's definitely talk about this later. When we aren't tear stained and covered in dry blood.” He laid Jeremy down gently, climbing in next to him. His knuckles were still covered in dried blood, and hurt like hell, but Michael would worry about that later.

Jeremy squeaked as Michael carried him. His body ached. He supposed that Aspirin wasn’t coming. He also supposed he didn’t deserve it. He nodded in agreement to Michael’s suggestion. What the fuck was today? He wished he could forget. The only moment he wanted was then. Lying next to Michael in his bed just loving him. Well, and maybe art class that day. How naïve they were during art class. Almost ironic. “A-Am I just staying here for now?” He didn’t even know what time it was. He didn’t have his medicine if he was going to be staying for the night, but he didn’t worry about that. 

Michael shrugged, burying his face into Jeremy's chest. “Worry 'bout it later.” He mumbled, muffled by the fabric of Jeremy's shirt. He was totally exhausted, and it was definitely catching up to him. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“M’kay,” Jeremy replied after a moment. He pulled Michael closer to him. He knew they could switch back at any second. It didn’t faze him—he just wanted to be with Michael. If it meant falling asleep, that was fine. God knew he needed it. They both did. So he hugged Michael with all he had, despite the pain in his muscles. He didn’t know when he’d get this opportunity again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt so emotional to write I started getting nauseous ;^; –sux


	24. (Please Do Not Fuck Kinks)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i’m too ace for this shit -dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the fuck is this

Michael woke up some time later, feeling mildly disoriented. They must have switched back at some point, because as he opened his eyes he found that he was staring down at his own body, arm draped around him loosely. Michael had fallen asleep wrapped around Jeremy like he was a giant teddy bear, his head on his chest and their legs entwined. Michael remembered listening to the careful rhythmic beat of Jeremy's heart as he was lulled to sleep. It had been soothing. 

Michael carefully extracted himself from Jeremy, doing his best not to wake him, so that he could stand up. Michael groaned internally as he did, his body aching. That's right, Jeremy had flung himself down the damn stairs. No wonder he felt like shit. There was also a dull throbbing on his cheekbone-- probably from where he had been hit in the 7/11. Michael sighed, quietly making his way upstairs. 

He cautiously emerged, checking to make sure neither of his mother's were in the kitchen-- they were probably home by now-- before sneaking over to the medicine cabinet and grabbing the bottle of Aspirin. He also grabbed some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and bandages. If Michael remembered correctly, his body’s hands still needed to be tended to. He swiftly grabbed a bottled water from the fridge before gathering everything into his arms and scurrying back downstairs. 

Michael sighed, relieved he had managed to make the trip uninterrupted. His ‘Jeremy’ acting skills weren't very good, and he didn't want to deal with the probing questions his mothers would’ve undoubtedly barraged him with. He set everything down carefully on the bedside table, swiftly grabbing the Aspirin and downing two pills. He grimaced as he chased them with a gulp of water, the unpleasant chemical taste of the pills filling his mouth.

Michael sighed softly, looking down at Jeremy's sleeping form. Way too much had happened in one day. He deserved to sleep as long as he wanted, Michael decided. He placed the water back on the nightstand before shuffling into his bathroom. May as well survey the damage, right? 

Michael flipped on the light, taking in his--Jeremy's-- form in the mirror. There was a dark purple bruise blooming across his right cheekbone, as Michael had expected, and his face looked all around drained and tired. Nothing surprising. Michael only slightly blushed as he pulled his shirt off over his head. Focus, Mell, you're checking for injuries. Nothing else. Michael looked down at his torso, frowning at the light bruising around Jeremy's right hip, as well as a larger, darker bruise around the bottom of his ribs. That's gonna hurt like hell for a good while. 

Other than that, he couldn't find any more injuries, thankfully. He contemplated putting the shirt back on, but then an idea sparked in his mind. He wandered over to the shower awkwardly.

Jeremy wouldn't mind it he washed his hair for him, right? Michael thought that he could at least do this much to lighten Jeremy's load once they switched back, and it's not like he was going to do anything weird. He wasn't even going to take his pants off. So it should be acceptable, right? Michael blushed. He didn't want to admit that he had actually always wanted to know what it would be like to was Jeremy's hair for him--although, he hadn't expected to do it _as_ Jeremy. He shrugged the thought away, no time for daydreaming. It's not like Jeremy would know, anyway. It would take five minutes, tops. He would be done before the other boy woke up.

Michael turned the knob to get the water running so that it would warm up as he pulled down the shower nozzle. He hated just washing his hair like this, bent over the edge of the shower uncomfortably, but it was his only option. He grabbed his shampoo and conditioner, placing them on the ground beside him as he sat on his knees so that he could lean over the edge of the tub without worrying about falling over. He switched the shower head on, carefully angling it so that he could wet his hair without water getting all over his bathroom. He shivered as the warm water hit his scalp. It felt nice. 

He made sure his hair was completely wet before blindly grabbing the shampoo bottle. He flicked it open, holding it above his head and squeezing the cold shampoo onto his head. He tossed the bottle aside, the hand that wasn't still holding the shower head moving up to work the shampoo into his hair. Michael grimaced every time he moved his hand too harshly and ended up tugging painfully on Jeremy's sensitive scalp. How did he live like this?

Once his hair was thoroughly lathered, Michael closed his eyes as he rinsed it out carefully, running his fingers through his hair to ensure no soapy shampoo bubbles were missed. Michael repeated the previous process, this time with conditioner, until he was back in the same position of rinsing his hair. He was just about finished when a sudden noise startled him. Shit. Jeremy must've been up.

\-----

Jeremy was still a good ways into dreamland. Everything was fuzzy, and if he fell back to sleep, he most likely wouldn’t remember being awake now in the morning. He sneezed, which is what woke him up. He didn’t know you could sneeze in your sleep, but he was too out of it to care. 

He rubbed a bit of sleep out of his eyes and realized he was alone on the bed. Where had Michael gone? He looked around to see the bathroom door glowing. The light was on inside. The shower was running. 

Delusional, Jeremy stumbled to his feet and toward the door, too sleepy and recklessly that he didn’t notice he wasn’t quite himself anymore, as he had been when they’d fallen asleep. 

His fuzzy mind told his hand not to knock. Just open the door, it said, this is a dream anyway. The basement bathroom didn’t lock—it had been broken for a few years. Jeremy slowly turned the knob. 

Shit. Michael panicked, shutting the water off quickly. His hair was still soaked, however and he couldn't get up because he forgotten to grab a towel. He heard the door open. Well, guess he'd been caught. 

Jeremy, eyes closed to avoid the sudden brightness of the bathroom light, stumbled inside, still as sleepily as he’d wandered in. “Michael?” he asked drowsily, his tiredness slurring his word a little. “‘S’that you?”

Michael would've shook his head at Jeremy's obliviousness if he weren't stuck craning his neck over the edge on the bathtub. “Uh-huh” he confirmed dumbly. Damn, Jeremy might be up, but he definitely wasn't awake yet. “Can you uh- hand me a towel, please?” Maybe he wouldn't comment on the fact the Michael was currently half naked and wet in Jeremy's body.

Jeremy tried to open his eyes and hissed at the light, closing them again. He didn’t quite hear Michael’s request. “What’re you doin’, Micah?” he slurred. 

“Um..” This was fine, right? “Washing your hair?” Michael really wished he had a towel. His neck was starting to ache.

Jeremy groaned sleepily. “You woke me up for that?” He thought he remembered waking himself up, but everything still felt surreal. “ _Nooooo_.”

Michael scoffed. “I did not wake you up, you egg. You just woke up and stumbled in here on your own.” Michael paused and grimaced as he stared at the beige plastic of the bathtub. “Can I _please_ have a towel?”

Jeremy was silent for a long time. Then, “Oh.” He felt around, keeping his eyes closed at the wall until he found a towel. “Mhm.” He yanked it off the rack and thrust it straight in front of him, not bothering to come closer to Michael. 

Michael turned so that he could look back at Jeremy, seeing him stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed, holding out a towel. Michael contemplated the situation for a second. He'd Jeremy not opened his eyes this whole time? No wonder he was acting so ditzy. Michael sighed. Guess there's no other choice. He clambered to his feet, lifting his head so that he could see where he was going, causing water to trail down his neck. He shivered uncomfortably, grabbing the towel quickly and immediately drying off the excess water in his hair. “Have your eyes been closed this whole time?”

“Whose eyes? What?” Jeremy really felt numb. He could probably fall asleep on the spot if Michael didn’t keep him engaged. 

Michael raised an eyebrow at his words, dropping the towel to rest on his shoulders as he took a step closer to Jeremy. He was _really_ not awake right now, was he? Michael smirked. He could definitely wake him up. He placed his hands on Jeremy's hips, leaning close to his ear. “Jeremy-” he practically purred. “Wake up.”

Jeremy didn’t move. “‘M not asleep, Micah,” he slurred, putting his hand on one of Michael’s over his hip. 

Michael smiled. “Then open your eyes.” He leaned up and kissed Jeremy high up on his cheekbone, slowly trailing small kisses down his cheek until he got to the edge of his lip before moving to the other side and repeating the process.

Jeremy giggled sleepily. “What’re you doin’ Mike? ‘S inappropriate.” He laughed some more and instinctively stepped even closer. “Eww,” he complained. “Your hair’s wet.”

Michael snorted. “You would've known that if you opened your eyes, dummy.” Michael hesitated for a second, contemplating whether or not his next idea was a good one or not. Jeremy would probably bring it up later, but whatever. Michael's devious urge won his over. He reached up, fisting his hand in the back of Jeremy's- his own - hair, tugging slightly. “C’mon, Jerm.” He muttered lowly. If this didn't get him to start waking up, Michael didn't know what would.

Jeremy let out a strange noise and cracked his eye open. “What’s that for?” he whined. What was Michael doing? He needed to come back to bed so Jeremy could sleep. 

Michael smirked, the urge to tease Jeremy growing. He had decided very quickly that teasing Jeremy to the point that he ends up all hot and bothered was one of his favorite pastimes. He tugged again, feeling smug. He knew exactly what was going on for Jeremy’s (Michael's) body right now. He moved his lips to trace along Jeremy jaw, starting at the chin and moving up until he was at the base of his ear. He smirked again before placing an open mouthed kiss on the skin there, biting at him lightly. Michael didn't really know what he was doing, but he’d read enough to know the basic idea.

Jeremy let out a whimper that Michael, if he were himself, would probably have found embarrassing if he’d made it. Both his eyes were open, but heavy lidded. The fuzziness of the world around Jeremy was focusing. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still confused, though. “Michael, really, w-what are you doing?” His breaths were warm and fast. He wasn’t quite awake enough to notice the aching in his limbs and head, but he did notice the strange feeling caused by Michael’s hand in his hair. 

Michael tugged roughly this time, hard enough to pull Jeremy’s head back and expose more of his neck. He placed one more light kiss on the area he had bitten before pulling back. “I _did_ promise you a reward, remember? Although it's kind of uncomfortable when you're in my body..”

Jeremy fought back a yawn, causing the noise he made that time to sound even stranger. “J-Just kiss me,” he concluded. He was still mostly sure that this was only a dream, anyway. Michael wouldn’t have to know about this. 

Michael raised an eyebrow at him. On one hand, teasing Jeremy was a lot less disconcerting when he was himself, but on the other hand, he knew all of the things that his body liked already. But, Michael also really did want to kiss him, so he did. He pressed their lips together carefully, knowing Jeremy was still in a sleepy state, and kissed him slowly. Well shit. He really didn't think that through enough. Because now _he_ was the tired one. God damn it.

Jeremy blinked. Now fully awake, he was also fully aware of the water in his hair and the pain on his cheek and hip. God, that was painful. And the water was _cold_. But he quickly composed himself and put together the situation. Now he had a sleepy and possibly turned on Michael to deal with. His hand was in Michael’s hair already, so he tugged on it as he spoke. “Now _you_ gotta wake up, egg.” He laughed softly. 

“God Dammit.” Michael muttered, a shiver running down his spine. Fuck kinks. “This was not the plan.” Shit, all that stuff that happened must have _really_ taken a toll on his body- emotionally and physically. He rubbed his eye tiredly, trying to ignore the feeling of Jeremy's hand in his hair. To think, his own teasing turned against him. 

Jeremy kept a tight grip in Michael’s hair. “It’s what you get for trying to wake me up like that.” He might have regretted waking up and stumbling into the bathroom, but nothing could make him regret anything when it came to seeing Michael all bothered like this. He knew—though he wasn’t sure what time it was—that the morning was on the horizon, and that meant school. It meant real life and it meant dealing with that afternoon’s awful events. He supposed he could put it off for now, though. Michael deserved a soft night in. 

Michael's breath caught, his blood heating up. Damn, since when did Jeremy know how to do this to him? Michael cleared his throat. “W-What are you gonna do about it?” Fuck, he had stuttered. Stuttering was such a bitch move. Although, to be fair, Michael was basically trying to taunt Jeremy into being dominant. Whatever. His mind was a mess, he didn't even know what he was thinking anymore.

Jeremy tightened his hand in Michael’s hair, pulling the strands along the way. He looked at Michael’s neck, where he’d technically given himself a smallish hickey. Jesus. He got his head out of the gutter and looked back into Michael’s tired eyes. “You’ll see,” he purred. He moved his other hand to the small of Michael’s back and pulled him impossibly closer, only slightly aware of how he was half naked and dripping wet. 

Michael gulped, a tingling igniting low in his stomach. _Holy shit_. He bit his lip as Jeremy tugged him closer, moving his hands to rest on Jeremy's chest. “Oh?” He taunted. “Will I?”

Jeremy felt his face become hot. He had to keep up appearances, though, no matter how nervous he was. He wanted this. “Unless you’re into blindfolds.” Why the fuck did he say that? Was that a joke or a suggestion? He really wasn’t sure. He tugged again on Michael’s hair in case he’d said the wrong thing and killed the mood. 

Michael had frozen when Jeremy spoke. He was about to burst into laughter because, fuck, that was such a _Jeremy_ response, but then the hand in his hair tugged again, shutting him up. He let out a breathy sigh and closed his eyes. Both from being tired and… whatever was happening with Jeremy. He remained silent as he waited for Jeremy to do something. 

Jeremy tilted his head up and placed his lips on the untouched side of Michael’s neck. He kissed hard, enough to make the SQUIP proud. He didn’t think about consequences or who would see what. He just wanted Michael to know he loved him, that he was claiming him. When he was satisfied with that love bite, Jeremy moved down Michael’s neck to just under his jawline and started a new one. All the while he moved his fingers through Michael’s hair and pressed his body close to his boyfriend’s. Although the actions may have differed, his mindset in doing them was the same as when they’d fallen asleep. He wasn’t sure when he’d get this chance again. 

Michael whined slightly, tilting his head so that his neck was bared to Jeremy's mouth. He would've moved his hands around to Jeremy's back to hold on to him better, but as his eyes fluttered open for a second he froze. He had ended up locking eyes with a figure standing in the bathroom doorway. His eyes widened and he quickly pushed Jeremy off of him. Michael cleared his throat, face flushing. 

“Mom!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im uncomfortable


	25. (please do not fuck bandages)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wowowow

Michael stared at his mother in horror, face lighting up. Suddenly he didn't feel so tired anymore. 

Maria had been coming downstairs to check up on the boys-- Her and Jasmine had gone down when they first got home after seeing Michael car in the driveway but had found them to be asleep. What she hadn't been expecting, however, was to walk in on her son and his newfound boyfriend in the middle of a late night bathroom make out. 

“Mi-” she cut off abruptly as her eyes landed on Jeremy- hair wet, half naked, and bruised. “Jeremy?! What happened to you?” 

Jeremy, who had stumbled backward after being shoved away from Michael, whipped around to see Maria standing there staring at him. He suddenly felt a lot more self conscious. He was too caught up in the shock of Michael’s mother appearing to correctly interpret her question. “I-I was washing my hair!” he stammered. Technically, Michael had washed it. But technically that didn’t matter. 

Maria shook her head. “Not your hair, your body! Why are you so bruised?” She shuffled toward him quickly, looking over the bruising with concern. 

Michael stayed quiet, watching his mother and boyfriend. He was, of course, absolutely mortified that she had walked in on them, but at the same time he was also watching how the two interacted. His mother was treating Jeremy as if she were his own son. Not that that was a new development, both of his mother's had always been that way regarding Jeremy. But, now that they were together, it felt different. It felt.. nice to see how much she cared about him. 

Michael shook his head roughly, now was not the time to be getting sentimental, he needed to stay focused.

Jeremy shivered as Michael’s mother got closer. He’d practically grown up with her and her wife, but he still felt a little like he needed to prove he was worthy of Michael’s attention—the feeling was reiterated now that they were together officially. So, he tried to act brave despite having absolutely no coherent excuse. Maybe the truth would suffice? “I fell down the stairs,” he admitted lamely. His arms were crossed to cover the most of his chest that he could. 

“What!? Why didn't you two call us! When did this happen?” Maria switched between looking from Jeremy to Michael and back again. “You could've gotten seriously hurt!” She cried in distress. 

Jeremy smiled nervously, as if only embarrassed about the stairs and not what Maria had walked in on. “I didn’t think it was that bad?” he uptalked. He couldn’t make himself turn around to look at Michael. 

Michael was at a loss for what to do. His head was spinning with the flurry of events. He wanted to say something to help Jeremy, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out. How useless of him.

Maria frowned. “What if you cracked a rib!? Oh god, did you crack a rib!? I need to get Jasmine, she's always been better with this kind of stuff, god, like that time when Mikey was five and scraped his knee and was crying and then I started crying and she had to help both of us.” Maria was rambling anxiously, edging back to the doorway. How could Jeremy be so calm about this? He had a bruise the size of a watermelon!

Jeremy took a step forward. “I-I’m fine, Mrs. Mell, really. I didn’t even cry!” He didn’t think he cried, anyway. He wanted to. He’d cried ample times in front of Michael’s family, maybe even more than in front of his own father, so he was pretty proud he hadn’t started sobbing right then. “I’m fine,” he repeated, “ask Michael!” 

Maria turned to Michael, still tense. Michael blinked. “Uh- Y-Yeah! He's fine.” He agreed. He moved to lean casually on the counter next to him, but quickly shifted to clasp his hands behind his back instead when he caught sight on the dried blood still staining his knuckles. “Um. I- I made sure he was okay! I checked already, he just has a couple bruises.” He smiled nervously in an attempt to calm his mother.

Maria paused. Then she remembered what had been happening when she had first found them. Maybe Jeremy _was_ fine, considering he was at least fine enough to suck the hickeys that were currently decorating Michael's neck. “You.. Checked, did you?” She asked, gaze sliding back over to Jeremy.

Jeremy looked down at his shirtless chest like that was the answer. “Obviously,” he said, trying to act suave for their company. It was hard when his whole face was bright red and everyone could see his disgustingly pale torso. He hadn’t even been able to look at himself in the mirror—save for his face—since the play incident. He didn’t want to know if the SQUIP’s shocks had left scars.

Maria, however uneasily, laughed. “..Okay.” she relented. “If you're sure. I’ll… leave you two to it then.” She made to leave, stopping in the doorway to turn back one last time. “Don't forget to be safe.” And with that, she was gone.

Michael still felt the embarrassment. He really did not want his mother to witness him getting… _Hickied_ by his boyfriend in his basement bathroom.

When Jeremy was sure Maria was out of earshot, he exhaled loudly. “Oh my _god_.” He lowered his arms. “Guess that woke you up.”

Michael grimaced. “I'm very sad now.” Nothing like your mother walking in to ruin the mood. “And my hands hurt.” He held his hands up in front of him, directing his grimace to the ripped flesh and raw cuts.

Jeremy winced at the sight of Michael’s knuckles. “You know, I still don’t know how that happened,” he prompted. He tore his eyes away from them before he became woozy from the sight. 

Michael frowned, dropping his hands. “Come on, let's go sit down. I’ll tell you while I take care of this.” He gestured to his knuckles and turns to head back into his bedroom.

Jeremy, in all his shirtless glory, followed Michael out of the bedroom awkwardly. He wanted a shirt, but he wanted more to know why his boyfriend’s hands were bloody. No more distractions. He sat slowly on the bed, and a small part of him urged him to go back to sleep, but he stayed upright, waiting. 

Michael grabbed the rubbing alcohol and cotton balls, absently soaking one as he began to speak. “Well,” he started. “I saw you get hit, through the window, so obviously I ran inside and I saw you on the ground and I was so scared I wanted to vomit but then I looked at the dude who had hit you, and he was _still_ yelling at that woman like you didn't even exist and he _hadn't_ just physically assaulted you and, well…” Michael paused for a breath for the first time since he started talking. He slowly brought the cotton ball down on his knuckle, hissing at the immediate sting. “Um, I don't really know..? Like, the next thing I knew I was on top of him on the ground and my hands were fucked up. I guess I hit him? A lot?” He winced as he continued cleaning his wounds. It stung like hell, so much so that it brought tears to his eyes, but he ignored them.

Jeremy instantly felt guilt rise in his chest. His intervention had done nothing—the man still argued with the woman—except get more people hurt. He hurt Michael in even more ways than he’d thought he had. “I-I’m sorry,” he croaked, throat suddenly feeling raw. He guessed he couldn’t put this off any further. “A-And I’m sorry for _everything_ I said to you. I know I said that, but—Michael, you can’t forgive me for that. You don’t deserve to think of yourself so low. I don’t need forgiveness.” He stared at Michael’s knuckles as nausea built in his stomach. He’d done that to him, if only indirectly, but he’d also emotionally hurt him. 

Michael took a deep breath, getting a new clean cotton ball and repeating the previous process. “...I guess we really need to actually talk about this shit, huh?” He grinned crookedly, a tired sadness in his eyes as he moved to clean up his other hand. “Well, firstly, you have no reason to be sorry about my hands, I’m the one who beat that guy up. And I would easily do it again. He _hit_ you, Jeremy. Of course I fucked him up. That was probably inevitable.” He tossed the dirty cotton balls onto the bedside table, grabbing the bandages. “Secondly, this talk about the shit we said to each other is probably going to be far more painful-- for both of us-- anyway, so it's fine.” He grimaced, having to pause as he started awkwardly attempting to wrap his hand.

Jeremy watched Michael tend to his hands. He knew Michael probably felt just as bad as he did about the things he said that day. He supposed they were even that way. He took the topic back to the fight. “Uh, so what happened to that guy? Did- did the girl get away? Or did someone call the- the police?” He just hoped he helped someone that day in the midst of hurting others. 

“I sure fuckin’ hope so,” Michael started, deteriminedly trying to keep the bandage in one place so that he could get it around his knuckles with only one hand. “Because when we left, the guy was knocked out cold, bleeding on the floor.” He stated flatly, not looking up, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Oh god,” Jeremy realized. “We left a crime scene! We just left! Are we criminals?! You beat that guy to unconsciousness!”

Michael paused his hands, looking up at Jeremy with a raised eyebrow. “Who cares? That guy was a fucking prick. Fuck him.” He grumbled, eyes narrowing bitterly at the memory of the man. “He didn't even stop yelling at that girl after he knocked you _un-fucking-conscious_.”

“Right…” Jeremy bit his lip in consideration. Ignorance was bliss, right? He decided to ignore it. “Man, I’m never gonna finish that portrait of you,” he thought aloud. It was spontaneous, but lighthearted enough to take the attention off of the after school events. 

Michael barked out an awkward laugh, caught off guard by the sudden subject shift. “I’ll probably get blood on yours if I tried to finish it, since my hands are shot to hell. I think we're even.” he smiled crookedly. In the back of his mind he felt uneasy, however. Why was Jeremy changing the subject? Michael thought they were going to talk about all that shit that happened. Although, that particular conversation wasn't exactly appealing to him either, so he could understand if Jeremy was trying to avoid it.

“Yeah, even,” Jeremy repeated. He scooted himself closer to Michael and gave him a sad smile. Michael deserved better than him, but if he’s what Michael thought made him happy, then he’d oblige. He softly kissed the other boy’s temple and sighed tiredly.

Michael frowned even as his heart fluttered from the kiss. “This is wack as hell.” He proclaimed. “I hate this. I hate that both of us feel like shit all the time because we fucking hate ourselves. I hate how sad it makes you.” He purposefully gathered up the bandages, placing them back on the table. “Fuck bandages. My hands are fine.”

He turned back the Jeremy, grabbing one of his hands and meeting the boys gaze directly. “I don't want us to live like this. I want us to be able to just be happy with ourselves and each other and our beautiful twin babies. So… let's stop being coy ass hoes and fix it, right?” Michael gave him a small sincere smile in question. “We can't keep bottling all this stuff up. We just gotta be totally upfront and honest about everything. Just lay all that shit out, y'know?”

Jeremy didn’t have much to say. “Micah, I totally agree,” he said, voice cracking with bittersweetness. “I know it’s sort of sudden for me, but I really want that. Dammit, if you saw those babies, you’d die of cuteness overload.” He laughed. “A boy and a girl. You looked so happy. I know I imagined it, but…” He trailed off, then cleared his throat. “Once we get that Mountain Dew, Michael, I swear, we’ll get better. I’ll get better.”

Michael nodded, smiling wistfully. Jeremy's plan for twins sounded really, really amazing. “You don't have to get better, You're already perfect. All I need is you, who gives a shit about anything else? But, uh, I also have something to admit.” He blushed lightly, but didn't break Jeremy's gaze. “Earlier, when we were talking- y’know, after you _threw yourself down the damn stairs_ ,” he gave Jeremy a pointed look. “You were saying all that stuff to me and honest to God- I know this is, like, way too early but- all I could think about was how fucking much I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve never felt more strongly about anything in my life. Even if this whole dating thing doesn't work out– I don't want to ever be without you.” He bit his lip anxiously. “I know that that's, like, a massive bomb to just drop on you when we’ve only been officially dating for two days, but, like, _fuck_.” Michael shrugged, unsure of how to end his statement.

Jeremy’s smile widened as he leaned his still wet head on Michael’s shoulder, in the crook of his neck. “Honestly,” he said, “I never want to live a day when I can’t be with you. It- It’s like that quote, I-I think it’s from Pooh. That says, y’know, that thing about, like, if I live to be a hundred, I hope you live to be a hundred and one, so I don’t have to live a day without you. I dunno, that’s- that’s cheesy, isn’t it? Damn, I don’t know what I’m doing, just don’t listen to me.”

Michael puffed out a soft laugh. “Yeah, that was cheesy as hell.” He agreed, leaning his head to rest on Jeremy's. “We still need to talk about the stuff we said to each other.” He mumbled sadly. “We need to get rid of all those guilty feelings and shit.”

Jeremy’s smile disappeared. Fear built up in his chest. “You know nothing I said was true. That was a glitch. Manipulation, i-it wasn’t the truth. I promise.” 

Michael's face hardened. “Jeremy, I’m not the one you're trying to convince.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “We need to _really_ talk about this. No more hiding. I need to do it, too. Obviously. We have to be honest with ourselves and each other, dude.” He paused. “This is gonna be, like, some therapy-level shit. We’re gonna have emotional breakthroughs and all that jazz.” His lips quirked up slightly at the joke.

Jeremy didn’t laugh. “I-I don’t know how to do that, Michael,” he admitted. He felt his blood become cold and his breathing get somewhat labored. He was terrified of what was about to happen. 

Michael sat back up, carefully wrapping his arms around Jeremy and pulling him closer. “Hey, hey! It's okay. Don't panic. It’ll all be okay. I'll go first.” Michael frowned and took a deep breath. “Okay. So, I said a lot. Let's start with the whole 'abandoning me’ thing. I'm gonna be totally honest with you, dude. That was how I felt. I was upset, and angry. And sometimes I still worry about it. It's hard not to, y’know? But, I know you wouldn't do that ever again. Do you know how I know that?”

Jeremy tried to breath normally. “N-No,” he replied curtly, already fighting back tears. 

Michael rubbed his shoulder soothingly. “It's because you said so. And I trust you, completely. So, no matter what my anxiety tries to tell me, I know none of it's true. I know it's upsetting for you, when you think about what happened. You feel like I couldn't possibly forgive you. Or like you don't deserve for me to forgive you. But I do. I forgave you long, long ago, dude.” He paused to make sure Jeremy was okay. “You doing okay with this so far?”

“I guess,” Jeremy breathed. He accepted Michael’s forgiveness, of course, but he couldn’t think of how Michael could have forgiven him for the things he did. He didn’t want to ask. This was already too painful. But the sooner it was over, the sooner he could go back to sleep—next to the boy he decided he loved. 

Michael shook his head. He pulled away from Jeremy, shifting so that he could put his hands on Jeremy's shoulders to hold him in place as Michael met his gaze.

“Jeremy, 'I guess’ isn't good enough.” His eyes were sad, but he smiled. “This conversation is _going_ to hurt. It's gonna hurt like hell. But it'll be worth it. I promise. Now, please. You have to be _completely_ honest. Tell me exactly what's on your mind. That's the only way we’re gonna be able to do this.”

Jeremy stared into Michael’s eyes as his first tear fell down his bruised cheek. “I just—I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispered, knowing it wasn’t what Michael wanted from him, but he had no other words. “Just how fucking sorry I am. C-calling you a loser? Th-that part wasn’t me. But the...Months ago—The optic nerve blocking,” he said. “That was.”

Michael nodded, bringing his hand up to wipe away the tear. “It's okay. You can cry. Something tells me we’re both gonna be crying by the end of this.”

Jeremy winced as Michael’s hand brushed his bruise. “I just—I was so _desperate_ , I didn’t think I could survive high school. The SQUIP is...was...good at making me feel like shit. I guess if you want an excuse, technically I was...abused? Manipulated? But I made my choices. Most of them, anyway. Halloween—“ his voice cracked. “Halloween was my choice, too. I’d been fed over and over that you’d be mad at me, or jealous, so I just assumed you were. I’m sorry, Michael. And— Can I tell you something?” Another tear fell, this time on the other side of Jeremy’s face. 

Michael nodded, breath becoming ragged as his heart wrenched due to the worry and despair on Jeremy's face. He beamed at Jeremy as his eyes became watery as well. “Told you.” He said, laughing slightly before sniffling and giving Jeremy his attention once more.

Jeremy took a shaky breath, not acknowledging Michael’s laughter. “Y-You’re not the only one who had a bad Halloween night. I mean, besides the fire and Jake cheating on Christine. I-I don’t know how to say this—” He cleared his throat. “The SQUIP nearly forced me into s-sex. With Chloe.” He couldn’t take it back now. But this was secret sharing time, right? 

Michael let out a soft gasp, breaths coming out in shallow puffs as he held back his tears. “W-What?” He had no idea this had happened. “What did it do?”

“I-It just took over,” Jeremy said, voice small. “I couldn’t move. If it weren’t for Jake interrupting—” He couldn’t finish that sentence. He knew Michael could figure out how it ended. 

Michael's heart ached horribly. “Oh God.” He muttered. “Are you okay?” He cursed inwardly. He wished he knew how to do this better. 

Jeremy gulped. “J-Just a little scared of Chloe, still,” he admitted. 

Michael nodded, gulping. “How far did she..?” His heart hammered in his chest due to his distress.

It was getting difficult for Jeremy to speak. “N-Not very far. I sh-shouldn’t complain. People have it w-worse.”

Michael straightened up. “Hey! No, just because other people have problems, it _doesn't_ mean yours don't matter. Don't ever think that.” He spoke firmly, his tears temporarily forgotten. “It's… not good for you.” He added lamely, posture faltering. 

“Right,” Jeremy whispered. He didn’t have much more to say. He’d apologize, but it wouldn’t do anything. Then he remembered something. “Um,” he started, “if you don’t mind me asking, u-uh, what exactly was the d-deal the SQUIP was t-talking about…?”

Michael tensed, a light wave of nausea enveloping him. “Ah.” He muttered, looking down ashamedly. “I-It was.. I-it said it would make you– get you to love me back.” He whispered. “Well, technically it said you already did, and it was just gonna make you realize it.” Michael bit his lip harshly. This was it, he finally had to tell Jeremy what he did. There was nothing he could do about it, he was the one who said they had to be honest with each other, he couldn't go back on that now.

This time, Jeremy laughed. “What a useless prick,” he said. “You didn’t need that damn computer, Michael. I’m here and I’m yours.” He really hoped the conversation wasn’t about to turn sour again. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to move on. 

Michael let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. “Thank you.” He muttered, smiling softly. He cleared his throat. “One last thing, and then I think we'll be done.” 

Jeremy’s smile faltered. He could almost hear his heart beating, it was so fast and hard. “Y-Yeah?”

Michael hung his head in guilt. “It's just- when we were at the 7/11, and I said- I said that you didn't know what love was when you tried to tell me you loved me. It's been bothering me. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry I made you cry. I– I love you, too.”

Jeremy’s mouth parted in the way it sometimes did when he was thinking hard about something. “I deserved it,” was his reflexive response. He hadn’t realized he’d said it until he had; he’d been saying that a lot, lately, and thinking it even more. 

Michael's blood ran cold, his tears flowing faster as a small sob left him from out of nowhere. “No!” He gasped, tears dripping down his cheeks. He cradled Jeremy's face in his hands gently, giving him a desperate look. “N-No, you didn't. You did _not_ deserve that, Jeremy. P-please, please, God, don't think you did. I'm so sorry, oh God. I'm sorry,” Michael's head dipped again as he fought back his sad cries.

Michael couldn't stomach the thought of Jeremy taking his harsh statement to heart. His throat already felt raw, how many times had he cried today? God, Michael wished life weren't so fucked up. He wished he could make everything better. He wished he could take Jeremy's doubts and worries away. But he couldn't. Instead, he inevitably ended up feeding them. There was no helping it. That's just life. And life was currently ripping Michael's heart in half.

More tears fell down Jeremy’s cheeks as he stared at one point on the floor, unblinking. “No, Michael—Everything I said was a lie, but everything you said was true. I-I needed to hear those things. I needed to know how hard I hurt you.” His voice turned violent with a sob toward the end. 

Michael was shaking violently, a seemingly endless flow of tears still streaming down his face. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to help. “It wasn't t-true when I said you d-don’t know what love is.” He stammered through the tears. “I-” he was at a loss for what to do as he roughly wiped at face with the back of his hand. “Jeremy, just- please don't ever leave me, okay?” Michael wrapped his arms around Jeremy's midsection, being careful of the bruises, and buried his face in the other boys chest. “I know you won't, but.. promise yourself that you won't, okay?” He sniffled pitifully.

Jeremy instinctively pulled Michael closer, disregarding the pain on his waist, so he could hug him properly. “I–” He what? Was he going to come up with another undeserved excuse? Was he going to hurt Michael again? “I promise.” He sighed with relief. He hoped this conversation was really over this time. 

Michael just sniffled again, using the weight of his body to push Jeremy over so that they were laying down. Michael was tired, crying, and his hands hurt. He just wanted to go to sleep. He didn't say anything else as he clung to Jeremy, still crying softly. What a terrible goddamn day.


	26. (Please Do Not Fuck Twink Arms)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER 2500 words of NOTHING getting done!!!!!!!!!!

Jeremy didn’t open his eyes; instead, he brought a hand up to rub the sleep away from them. Bad idea. His knuckles hurt like hell and something was wrapped around his hand. Oh. Michael’s hand. They must have switched back during the night. His other arm was wrapped tightly around Michael, still asleep. Jeremy looked to his right and saw the sunlight coming in from the window near the ceiling by the AC unit outside. He guessed that meant it was time to face the day. 

He removed his hand from around Michael, being careful not to touch the bruise he knew was on his side, and sat up slowly. How were they going to explain their injuries to their friends at school? Would they see the hickeys Jeremy had left on Michael’s neck? The memory made his ears go red. 

He looked down at his own sleeping form. Dried tear tracks stained his face. He reminded himself that this was Michael, who he’d just fallen asleep crying with, who he loved. He remembered the other day—he didn’t know which day, everything was blending together—waking up to find out Michael had kissed him in his sleep. Maybe he could return the favor. He did need to wash up, and he knew Michael wouldn’t do it in his body. The only catch was that then he’d be asleep, or at least sleepy. 

He didn’t want to wake Michael up. He deserved this rest. But he needed to—they had school. He placed his hand softly on his own non bruised cheek. “Micah,” he whispered. “We need to get up.”

Michael grumbled softly, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Nuh-uh.” He whined, burying his face deeper into the bed. 

Jeremy let his hand’s pressure increase on Michael’s cheek. “Michael, we really need to go to school,” he reasoned. “If you get up, we can get it over with.”

Michael took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks as he slowly let it out. He kept his eyes closed, pursing his lips in a childish pout. “But Mooooooooooom,” he whined, even as he leaned into Jeremy's hand ever so slightly. “School is for nerds.” 

Jeremy blinked. “I’m not your mother and you are a nerd. A super nerd, since you’re actually me right now.”

Michael cracked open his eyes slightly, looking at at Jeremy through his eyelashes, his eye heavy lidded and tired. “Then it's your fault it's so hard to get me up.” He pouted, still not moving. 

“Gee, sorry my body treasures its sleep,” Jeremy joked. “It’s an anxiety free time, pretty ideal.” He absently rubbed his thumb over Michael’s cheek. 

Michael snorted to himself. “More like sorry your body is such a treasure, am I right?” He joked, smiling crookedly. He still didn't get up, even though he was mostly awake at that point.

“Oh, shut up,” Jeremy muttered, using his other hand to try and pull Michael up from the bed he seemed fused to. 

Michael, momentarily forgetting about his reduced weight, was pulled up into a sitting position easily. He groaned loudly, falling forward into Jeremy, dropping his head on the other boy’s shoulder lazily. “How fucking rude.” he grumbled. He was glad Jeremy couldn’t see how he was pouting about not being able to be the stronger one. While Michael may have some self-esteem issues when it came to his body, he did appreciate his increased strength. “Damn twink arms. Fuck twink arms.”

Jeremy put his arms around Michael in mock pity. “You seem to like them when they’re mine,” he quipped. He wished he could keep Michael’s strength when this was all over. It would make opening bottles and carrying things a whole lot easier. 

Michael hummed in response. “When they’re yours all I have to do is admire them, not try to use them.” he counters. He considered kissing Jeremy on the collar bone-seeing as his face was already right there- but decided that maybe he should stop making moves on his own body.

Jeremy laughed softly and finally pried Michael off of him. “We need to get ready.” He looked at Michael’s head. “My hair’s a _mess_. Why did I let it dry like this?”

Michael scoffed. “We were kind of preoccupied.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t my idea to spill our deepest secrets,” Jeremy murmured. 

Michael sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Can we just get ready for schoo-” Michael froze, eyes locked on Jeremy. “Ah fuck.” He swore under his breath.

Jeremy’s eyes searched Michael’s. “What? What is it?”

Michael's face tinted red. “Hickeys” he muttered quietly, eyes locked on Jeremy's (Michael's) neck.

Jeremy’s hand shot up to his neck, fingers brushing over the small bruises he’d given Michael the night before. “Shit,” he cursed. “Hide it or flaunt it?”

Michael paused for a moment as he considered it. “Well, I would say flaunt but Rich is _definitely_ going to say something. I don't even know if hiding it is an option, they're too high up for a jacket or shirt to cover them and I don't exactly have any, like, makeup or whatever.”

“Your headphones kinda cover this area, r-right?” Jeremy didn’t want to be the cause of Michael’s distress. They needed to find a solution. 

Michael shook his head. “Maybe one of them, but not the one under my ear. Or, like, half of the last one.” He smirked slightly. “Guess we'll just have to see if Rich can figure 'em out. He might not even notice.” He would definitely notice.

Jeremy grit his teeth. “You think he’ll stay oblivious? Everyone’s gonna be talking about this. He’ll overhear.”

Michael smiled. “Fine. Let 'em talk.” He shrugged. “I'm more than fine with people knowing we’re together--” he hesitated. “Unless… you're not?”

Jeremy met Michael’s eyes again. “I think,” he said, “I think I am, too.” He smiled. 

Michael beamed at him as his stomach fluttered happily. “Rad.”

Jeremy’s smile faltered only a smidge. “Should we tell my dad or let him figure it out?”

Michael shrugged. “We’ll tell him at some point.” Michael finally got up out of bed. “I need to shower, so, unless you're ready to touch my dick-” Michael held his arms open in invitation, waiting patiently.

Jeremy stood up as well. “Oh, r-right,” he said. He put his hand back where it had been when he’d tried waking Michael up. “Good morning kiss, I guess?”

Michael smiled and winked. “Always.” He leaned up and pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss, sighing softly into Jeremy's mouth. He didn't think he would ever get tired of kissing him. He pulled back with a dopey grin. “That was gross, we need to brush our teeth.”

Jeremy, feeling a bit groggier than before, nodded. “Just—Get a shower and then I’ll clean up, too.” He couldn’t wait until they could really kiss. When it would mean something. 

Michael snorted. “If you're gonna jack off while I'm in the shower at least think of me while you do it, yeah?” he said as he sauntered into the bathroom. Michael had known Jeremy for thirteen years. He knew the boy's morning routine. He had accidentally walking in on Jeremy's morning routine a couple times in the past. He also knew that Jeremy had not followed his morning routine for the past four days, and that Jeremy had the most active libido he had ever witnessed. 

“I’m not—” Jeremy lowered his voice. “I’m not gonna jack off, just go get a shower, nerd.” There went his morning plans. 

Michael laughed. “Hey, I didn't say you couldn't, I just said to make sure you wack it to _me_ , yeah? Y’know, like that time when we were on the phone.” He smirked from the doorway at how easily flustered Jeremy became.

Jeremy’s face went crimson. “That was multitasking and you _know_ it.” He pouted, lip stuck out just enough to be serious yet childish.

Michael's smirk widened. “Yeah. _Multitasking_. Sure.” He closed the bathroom door behind him as he finally went in to take his shower.

Jeremy scoffed at the closed door. He _had_ been multitasking. How was he supposed to know Michael was going to call him? He flopped back onto the bed to wait, wishing he had his medicine. Or any medicine. Especially pain medication. Everything ached. 

After Michael finished showering and brushing his teeth he exited the bathroom, finding Jeremy laid out on the bed lazily. “Must’ve been some great jerking off, if it tired you out that much.” He teased, straightening his glasses. Damn, he really needed to stop falling asleep in them. He had done that far too many times in the past week.

Jeremy sat up slowly, so his headache wouldn’t get worse. “I did _not_ jerk off,” he grumbled. “I sat here waiting patiently.” He had, after he’d fixed his hair as best he could without a mirror and changed into some clothes he’d left at Michael’s house in the past. 

Michael rolled his eyes as he said down on the bed as well. “Whatever. Your turn to use the bathroom.” He fell backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Maybe _I_ should jerk off while you're in there.” He joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Jeremy squeaked on his way to the bathroom. “I won’t take that long!” Should he have been flattered or disgusted?

Michael laughed obnoxiously. “I'm joking, bro! I only masturbate at night.” He winked at Jeremy before staring back up at the ceiling. “Now get ready.”

Jeremy made a dismissive gesture in Michael’s direction. “Yeah, whatever.” He disappeared into the bathroom. 

Michael sighed as the bathroom door clicked shut. He sat up, eyes drifting lazily around his room. He was too restless to lounge on the bed while Jeremy got ready. He stood, making his way towards the stairs. He may as well go see if his moms were making breakfast.

After painstakingly fixing every strand of hair he’d managed to misplace in his attempts earlier, Jeremy washed his face and came out of the bathroom, only to see Michael gone. Realizing he must have gone upstairs, Jeremy did the same, walking carefully to avoid falling down them. It was a fear he didn’t know he had until now. At the top of the stairs, he smelled the familiar Mell Breakfast scent—bacon, toast, and a warm family. Michael must have already started eating, so Jeremy sauntered toward the kitchen. 

Michael nodded in greeting as Jeremy emerged from the basement. He had come into the kitchen, greeting his mothers as per usual, and taken his usual seat. Just another typical morning in the Mell residence.

Jeremy awkwardly waved at both of Michael’s mothers and pulled the extra chair out from under the table. He heard someone clear their throat and froze without sitting down. 

“You boys sleep all right?” It was Jasmine, a concerned look on her face, her coffee mug held in both hands. Her wife must have told her about the bruises on Jeremy’s face and side. Great. 

Michael started, clearing his throat. “Um, yeah. W-we slept fine.” He said, smiling timidly. “It's all good.”

Maria shifted on her feet, looking back to Jeremy. “Your side doesn't hurt too bad, does it? That bruise on your face is pretty big, too, do you want us to see if we can try and cover it up? That way you won't have to deal with all those pesky questions from the other kids.” 

Jeremy felt a lump in his throat. “I-I think I’m fine, Mrs. Mell, th-thanks anyway.” He knew he’d regret not taking her offer, but his anxiety won him over. 

“Are you sure?” Jasmine said. “We called your father, by the way. He knows you’re here.” She paused, then smiled. “He thought it was funny that you fell down the stairs.”

“W-What?” Jeremy’s eyes widened. They’d told his dad? And he’d laughed at him? Sounded about right. 

Michael jumped in quickly before Jeremy could refuse again. “Um, do you have some, like, concealer or something? That we can take with us?” 

Maria nodded. “Yes, of course! We probably have some that will fit his skin tone..” She eyed Jeremy's skin in contemplation. “I’ll be right back.” She scurried off, heading towards her and Jasmine's bedroom.

Jeremy almost scoffed. Yeah, right, a house of Filipinos would have a shade that matched his pasty copy paper skin. 

Jasmine turned from her wife to look back at Jeremy concerningly. “You haven’t got a concussion, have you?”

“I-I don’t think so,” Jeremy replied. What had happened was worse than any concussion. 

Michael sighed in relief. At least they hadn't tried to pry any further into what happened. 

Maria came rushing back into the kitchen, a small glass bottle of skin colored makeup in her hand. She held it out to Jeremy, smiling timidly. “This will hopefully work. We got it the other day after we found out you two were together. We had to guess your skin tone, but…” She reached into her pocket and pulled out another one, this one a much darker shade, as well as a small sponge. “And this one's for you.” She handed it to Michael. “For your neck.” She smirked lightly. 

Jeremy took the bottle slowly. “You...What? Why did you get this?” 

Jasmine’s smirk rivaled her wife’s. “Honey, we’re not idiots. Look at Mikey’s neck. That’s what these are for.”

Michael blushed, not staring down at the table as he pouted. “Aren't parents supposed to be all about, like, not even touching? Not buying their son condoms and concealer for hickeys?” 

Maria shrugged. “We were teenagers, too, once. We aren't going to try and stop you when we know you’d probably do it anyway. As long as you're being safe, we support your decisions.” She leaned into Jasmine's side.

Jasmine put her arm around her wife. “Just be safe, boys. It’ll pay off.”

Jeremy stared at them. “O-Okay,” he stammered. So Michael’s parents really _did_ think they were fucking. Perfect. 

Michael groaned. “Great. Come on Jere, let's get going. I can only take so much sex talk with my mothers.” He stood from his seat, pocketing the concealer.

Jeremy stood up immediately and stiffly. “R-Right,” he said, shifting to where he was behind Michael, ready to follow. 

Jasmine’s smile faltered. “Be careful, boys,” she said. “It rained last night, so the roads are wet.”


	27. (please do not fuck physics)

They pulled into the parking lot and put the car in park. Michael turned the radio down and twisted to face Jeremy. “Guess we better… cover that up, huh?” He gestures to the bruise on Jeremy's cheek. “Do you want me to put the stuff on for you? Since you can't, like.. see it.”

Jeremy could feel his face redden. “Y-Yeah, you can—If you want.” He felt as awkward as he had when Michael had told him they’d needed to kiss for the first time, days ago. Was that only days ago? It felt like an eternity. 

Michael nodded, pulling the sponge and concealer out of his pocket, dropping the darker makeup into the cup holder. He took the bottle that Jeremy was offering, uncapped it and poured a small amount onto the sponge. “I’ll try to be light, okay?” He moved slightly closer, waiting for Jeremy to lean forward so that he could reach his cheek.

Jeremy did so, slowly, the heat in his cheeks increasing ever so slightly. He tried to make his breathing level and didn’t speak so Michael could have a stable canvas. 

Michael hesitantly dabbed the makeup on Jeremy's cheek, carefully attempting to cover the dark bruise without hurting him. After a couple minutes of concentration Michael pulled back, inspecting his work. “There, like it never happened!” He proclaimed proudly.

“I-It’s gone?” Jeremy leaned over to look in the rearview mirror. Indeed, the bruise that had once covered a large portion of his cheek was now itself covered by layers of concealer. “Wow.” He turned back toward Michael. “Did you want me to try and do yours?”

Michael gulped and felt his face heat up slightly. “Um.. actually I kinda… don't want to cover them up.” He fidgeted with his fingers anxiously.

Jeremy blinked. “What?” he asked. “Why not? What do you mean?” He looked Michael in the eyes. 

Michael's face burned even more. “W-Well, I kinda… uh, like it..? Not in like a weird way! Um, it's just like… I like that people will know that … I’m.. taken? Fuck, I don't even know what I'm saying, dude.”

Jeremy couldn’t stop what came out of his mouth. “You want people to see I’ve claimed you?” Fuck, why would he say that? That was so—Yet, he had to admit, it was kind of hot. 

Michael's eyes widened and he made a choking sound. “W- Jesus, do you- uh,” he stammered, “um… yeah.” He admitted, looking down at his hands. “I do.” 

Jeremy’s face became red as it had just before, save for a pale spot caused by the makeup. “O-Okay,” he stuttered, “that’s- It’s ideal.” Ideal? What the fuck? Where had his filter gone?

Michael snickered. “...Ideal?” What a Jeremy-esque statement. “Wait, it is?” Michael suddenly looked back to his boyfriend. He _wanted_ him to want people to see the hickeys?

Jeremy looked away. “I-I mean, sure, I-” He took a deep breath. “Yes,” he confirmed in a small, squeaky voice. 

Michael nodded. “Uh, well, good.” He cleared his throat. “Um, let's.. go inside.” Michael shut the car off, finally opening the car door and stepping out.

Jeremy hesitated just a moment before doing the same, closing his door behind him. He walked around the car to meet Michael. “Uh,” he started, “any plans for if this wears off soon?”

Michael shrugged. “Who knows? Honestly, who gives a shit anymore. We’ll figure it out when we get to it. If it happens during class we can just meet at the bathroom again. Except, y’know, without all the stripping and fire alarms this time.”

Jeremy gulped. This lack of plan was definitely not ideal. Still, he couldn’t argue. “O-Okay,” he agreed. 

\-------

The boys headed inside and made their way to Michael's locker, as per usual, to see what Rich and Jake were up to. Unsurprisingly, it involved an intense match of tonsil hockey on top of Michael's locker.

Jeremy groaned, even though he should be used to this. He tried not to look, but the two were all over the place. 

Jake, as usual, hadn’t seemed to notice Jeremy and Michael approach. The tonsil hockey began to become a little more intimate. 

“For fuck’s sake.” Michael muttered, walking over to the pair. “Hey! Stop it, save it for the bedroom!” He attempted to pry them apart, earning a startled look from Rich.

“Oh, hey guys!” He greeted, coming back to his senses. “Sup?”

Jake wiped his mouth, but the smirk remained. He nodded his head in agreement with Rich’s query. 

Jeremy finally made himself look at them, glad they weren’t eating each other’s faces. “Y’know, n-not much,” he answered, remembering the night before in great detail. 

Michael shrugged in agreement. “Just another day, y’know?” He wondered if they would notice the hickeys before lunch. “Can I get to my locker, or are you two going to consume each other some more?”

Jake took a big step back, pulling Rich with him easily. His eyes lingered on Michael’s neck for about a second, but he looked away. “Sorry, bro.”

Michael opened his locker and pulled out his math textbook. “Do you guys never, like, get tired of that? Like, how entertaining can it possibly be to suck each other's tongues for an hour _every_ day?”

Rich grinned proudly. “Not when it's Jakey D’s tongue! Besides, that's not the only thing I suck, I mean, it is Jakey _D_.” He winked at them.

Jeremy’s face became red, but he said nothing. 

Jake pulled Rich closer, his arms around his shoulders from behind. “You’d like it if you tried it,” he said, matching Rich’s wink. 

Michael hummed. “Yeah, sorry, you can keep _Jakey’s D_ to yourself, thanks. I'm pretty much covered in the face sucking category.” He wasn't really thinking about it before he spoke.

Rich’s eyebrows shot up. “What's that supposed to mean? Did ya get yourself a side hoe or something?”

Jake laughed, but didn’t want to ruin Michael’s challenge with Rich, so he kept his mouth shut. 

Jeremy, however, went even redder at Michael’s words, holding back a squeak. He pulled Michael back by his backpack. “Y-You can’t just _say_ things like that,” he whined. Sure, he wanted people to know Michael was his, but he was still embarrassed by the diction Michael chose. 

Michael huffed put a laugh, eyes shining. He ignored Jeremy's comment and turned back to Rich. “More like a main hoe, really. Although, I'm probably the hoe in the relationship, honestly.” He gave a lopsided grin.

Rich bounced in place. “For real? Who is it!?” He asked excitedly. “I can't believe Mikey got himself a top and didn't tell us!”

Jeremy momentarily forgot Michael’s bet on Rich. “A-A top?” He hadn’t thought of it that way. 

Jake grinned as his boyfriend bounced in his arms. They had been hickeys after all. “Nice job, broski,” he congratulated, not bothering to ask who it was. Surely Rich was asking for comedic effect. 

Michael raised an eyebrow. “I'm sure you can figure it out, dude.” He edged ever so slightly closer to Jeremy. 

Rich, however, was not the best at picking up social cues. “Come on, man, just tell us! Is it that guy from our chem class that always flirts with you?”

Jeremy looked at Michael. “What guy in your chem class?” The same feeling that had come over him in the park with Rich’s brother had returned. 

Michael gave Jeremy a reassuring glance. “No one, it's just some guy. I don't really know him.” 

Rich pouted. “So it's _not_ him, then? Damn.” He stopped to ponder the other possible people. 

Jeremy still felt uneasy about this chemistry guy, but he trusted Michael. “I-I’m gonna go on to class,” he said. “My classroom’s kind of, um, far away.”

Michael nodded, giving him a sideways hug. “Have a good day.” 

Rich is very bad at social cues. “Yeah, see you later, J-man!” He waved as though nothing unusual happened.

Jeremy hesitated before making eye contact with Michael. “I-I’ll see you soon,” he promised. Either they’d meet at lunch or in the bathroom given their switch wears off—whichever came first. 

Jake halfheartedly waved, not bothering to lift his arm all the way off his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

Michael turned back to the couple. “I should probably get going too. I’ll see you in class, Rich.” He awkwardly waved before heading off in the opposite direction.

Rich hummed. “Wonder who his boy is…” he wondered, mostly to himself.

Jake turned Rich around to face him. “You’ll figure it out, babe,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss to Rich’s forehead. 

\---------

Michael was in English class, the class he had right before lunch, when they switched. One minute he was typing an essay about some short story by a French dude named Guy and the next he was listening to a teacher ramble about how to find significant digits. Fuck. He looked down at the binder in his hands, notes written out in small neat letters along with the occasional bored scribble covered the page. Damn. Looks like his essay on 'The Necklace’ was going to have to be finished later.

Jeremy looked up at the board to copy the notes about which zeros in a number are considered ‘significant’. He looked back down at his paper, then back at the board, except the board wasn’t there, a computer monitor in its place in front of him, about a page typed on Microsoft Word. Michael’s name was under the title—‘Anticlimax and The Necklace’. The font was Comic Sans Serif. Jeremy would have to talk to Michael later about using Google Docs instead of Word. It was much more efficient. 

Michael squinted up at the board. What the fuck. What class even was this? More importantly, was he going to have to sit through the rest of it or did Jeremy want them to try and switch back as soon as possible? Michael sneakily slipped Jeremy's phone out of his pocket, shooting off a quick text to himself (Jeremy). 

M: dude wqat the fuck 

Jeremy felt a vibration on his thigh and pulled Michael’s phone from his pocket, hiding it behind the computer screen. 

J: ? comic sans?

Michael almost scoffed. 

M: comic sans is my bitch. What the fuvk class is this??? The hell is a sig fig

J: i would know if i finished taking notes. youre in physics. 

Jeremy looked back at the computer. 

J: youre in english??

M: fuck physics

M: it's ap English 4, bitch

J: since when are you an ap student wtf

M: bitch stfu r we switching back or what

J: you rly want me to suffer thru physics? :((

M: do u want to write my essay abt a greed ass hoe who spent 10 years paying off a pointless debt

J: i was just gonna play crazy taxi on primary games

M: oh my god

J: it’s all im good at

M: ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, 

M: ur pretty good at giving ppl hickeys

J: u gave urself one of those u know

M: kinky shit

J: stfu are we switching or what?? ://

M: yea always up 4 more jerm kissy face ;))) meet me in the bathroom in 10?

J: yeah, sounds fine

Jeremy put the phone away, hoping no one around had seen how obvious he was, or the blush he knew was invading his cheeks from reading Michael’s last message. 

Michael looked back up at the board. The teacher was about to pass out some worksheets on whatever's the hell they had been working on. Perfect, he could go to the bathroom without being noticed. He quickly slipped out of the room, shuffling down the hallway. He sighed. Fucking physics.

Jeremy psyched himself up to ask to leave. He practiced his question six times in his head before standing up and stuttering through it in a very un-Michael-like manner. Luckily, the teacher didn’t even look up, but instead just waved him off. No one looked away from their screens, either. Jeremy sighed and escaped the computer lab, making his way to the only bathroom on that hall. 

Michael waited in the bathroom, scrolling on Jeremy's Instagram for a couple minutes. He huffed. What was taking so long? 

M: where r u?

Jeremy stood against the bathroom wall and pulled Michael’s phone out. 

J: the bathroom?? where r u??? 

Michael looked up, glancing around himself.

M: wait

M: WHICH bathroom???????

J: the one on the science hall?? where did u go??? 

Michael groaned and rolled his eyes. 

M: I'll be there in 5

Michael pocketed the phone once more before slipping out of the bathroom. Of course they went to different bathrooms. 

Jeremy didn’t respond. Maybe they should have specified which bathroom to go to. He didn’t think it would be that big of a problem. 

Michael pushed open the swinging door to the bathroom, eyes immediately locking onto the only other person there. “Sup,” he remarked casually, sounding very uncasual in Jeremy's awkward voice.

Jeremy pushed himself off the wall. “S-sorry,” he said, his stutter still strong from not taking his medicine that morning. “I guess we need to get back to class. L-Let’s do this.”

Michael snorted. “That sounds like this is a booty call.” He jokes, walking over to Jeremy, automatically placing his hands on the other boy’s waist.

Jeremy, though in Michael’s body, still felt his blood run warmer at his boyfriend’s touch. “S’not a booty call,” he whined. 

Michael winked. “Not yet.” He leaned up, close to the other boy’s face, letting his eyes fall closed.

Jeremy tilted his head down—something he still wasn’t used to—and placed his lips on Michael’s, his own eyes fluttering shut as well. 

“Hey!”

They pulled away quickly as a voice called to them from the doorway. They turned to see who it is. 

“Rich?” Michael asked, blinking. 

Jeremy, now himself, backed from the door, caught off guard. “Wh-what?” It was an instinct; a reflex, to say that. It was mostly rhetorical. Jeremy was usually confused. It was his natural state. 

Rich waved. “What are you guys doing in here? Shouldn't you two be doing your class shit?” 

Michael raised an eyebrow. “What? What does that even mean?” 

Rich shrugged. “I'm gonna be honest, I was supposed to meet Jake in fifteen minutes, so my mind is kinda cloudy right now, if ya know what I'm saying.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. Part of him wondered if Rich and Jake had ever even seen each other naked, the other part didn’t want to think about that at all. “W-we were just leaving,” he said. Last time he’d run into Rich in a bathroom, it wasn’t good. 

Michael followed Jeremy out, reluctantly heading back to his English class. He wished they could kiss for real. Hopefully soon they could.


	28. (Please Do Not Fuck Art Class)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s short but plot is coming soon

Jeremy sat next to Michael at their normal table, his lunch tray piled with fries, a fish sandwich in the middle and a carton of strawberry milk in the designated place on the tray. He sighed as he opened the milk, having to pry the second layer of paper back from the opening. 

Michael also had a large quantity of fries, but he had chosen chicken sandwich instead of fish. Across the table sat Jake, Jenna, Christine and Chloe. Rich and Brooke would likely show up in the next couple minutes. Michael turned to Jake. “Is Rich, like, okay? He walked in on us in the bathroom and I'm pretty sure he still hasn't figured it out.”

Jake’s head jerked up at the mention of Rich. “Huh? He walked in on—” His eyes glazed with _something_ and his smile widened. “Good for you guys! Getting it on during class, eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “But seriously,” he said, expression flattening, “he still doesn’t have a clue?”

Jeremy picked at his fish. He didn’t have the energy to argue about why they’d gone to the bathroom. “No, I don’t think so.”

Michael shook his head in agreement. “For real, how does he not realize?” he asked, stuffing some sub par fries in his mouth.

Jake shrugged. “He’s usually much more apt to this shit.”

Jeremy looked up from his food. Did Jake say the word ‘apt’? And correctly? Must be a vocab word or something. “It’s not even like he’s pretending to not notice,” he explained. “He really doesn’t see it.” It would be funny if it didn’t make him a little sad. Jeremy must not have been doing a good job at being Michael’s boyfriend. 

“It's especially weird considering he tried to pull that jealousy thing the other day, remember?” Michael turned slightly to Jeremy, thinking back to the day they had told Rich. How long had it been? How many days had passed since all of this started?

Jake tilted his head. “What jealousy thing?”

Michael turned back to Jake. “Earlier in the week he came over to my place because me and Jere needed his help with something and he made Jeremy jealous on purpose. Kept asking if I wanted to have a three-way with you and him. Don't worry, he said he would only do it if you were invited.”

Jake pondered for a moment. “Isn’t that a four-way?” He picked up his sandwich—chicken—and took a casual bite. 

Jeremy went back to picking at his own food. “Doesn’t matter what it is, it’s not happening,” he grumbled. 

Michael smiled, patting Jeremy on the back reassuringly. “Don't worry, babe, I only have eyes for your dick, not Rich and/or Jake's.”

Jeremy froze, dropping his french fry onto the table. He felt all the eyes on him, his head going dizzy as well as warm. His hands became slick with sweat. “What?” he squeaked. 

Christine cleared her throat. “Really, guys? Again with the sex talk? In front of my salad?” She held her fork up, a piece of lettuce on the prongs. 

Michael shrugged, throwing an arm around Jeremy's shoulders. “We're teenagers, what do you expect?” 

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Boys and dicks.” She sighed, shaking her head.

Jeremy, still frozen, gulped. Why did Michael have to say the things he knew would fluster him? Red wasn’t a good color on Jeremy. 

Christine scoffed. “At least do that away from my food, thanks.”

Before Michael could respond, Rich and Brooke plopped down into their regular seats. 

“What’d we miss?” Brooke asked, smiling kindly. “ We wouldn't have been late but Rich made me wait for him to finish his quiz.” 

Rich scoffed. “Brookithy, look, we’ve been over this. Only sad people walk to lunch alone. Sad people and tall people.”

Jake already had his hand in Rich’s. “As a tall person, I—” He paused. “I can confirm.”

Jeremy knew at least now that Rich was there, Michael might lay off the flustering comments. He began to eat again. 

Unfortunately for Jeremy, Michael wanted to see just how oblivious Rich was. He kept his arm where it was, thrown over Jeremy's shoulders lazily, as he joined the conversation. “Are you implying that happy short people are pack animals?” He casually munched on another couple fries. 

Christine jabbed her fork into her mouth angrily. “That’s what it sounds like, huh?” Being the shortest of the group, she could vouch. 

Jeremy still said nothing, vaguely catching on to Michael’s current change in plan. 

Rich eyed the pair suspiciously. “Not like either of you would know.” He remarked, leaning towards Jake. 

Michael smirked. Maybe he was finally catching on. Michael was honestly astonished at how long it was taking him. 

Jenna laughed as she looked up from her tray. “I can safely say that I've only ever witnessed tall and happy people walk around alone. And I witness everything.” 

Jeremy finally let himself sort of melt into Michael’s arm. “I don’t think walking alone has anything to do with happiness or height.”

Jake shrugged, mimicking Michael’s arm around Jeremy by doing the same to Rich. He, too, was surprised Rich hadn’t said anything yet. 

Rich scoffed at Jeremy. “Do you walk alone?” He inquired.

Jeremy looked around. Again, all eyes were on him. “Look, it depends,” he said. “Sometimes I do, sometimes there’s Michael.” In fact, he’d walked to lunch alone. 

Rich nodded. “Exactly. The rules of the hallways say that sad people walk alone unless another, equally as sad person joins them. The sadness cancels itself out. Fact is, you _do_ walk alone.” 

Jeremy furrowed his eyebrows. “Michael isn’t sad,” he said immediately. But, was that even true? Last night had exposed more of Michael’s feelings than Jeremy had seen in a long time. Maybe it was safe to say he _was_ sad. That didn’t make Rich right, though. 

Rich raised an eyebrow in question. “Hey, y’know, I'm starting to get the feeling that _you're_ the one he’s been playing kissy face with.” He eyed them again.

Jeremy bit his lip but acted innocent. “Who, me? Really?”

Michael bit back his snickers, trying his best to keep a straight face. 

Rich gaped in astonishment. “Wait, holy shit, it _is_ you?!” 

Jake couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Oh my god, Richie, how long did that take?”

Jeremy nervously laughed along, a reflex from being told to do so by the SQUIP so many times in order to get ahead. “Y-You didn’t notice the—”

Christine dropped her fork loudly. “He’s got hickeys, Richard, right at mouth level with Jeremy.”

Rich looked at Michael's neck. “What the _fuck_? How did I not-- oh my _God_.”

Chloe snorted. “Jesus Christ, Rich.”

Jenna shook her head but didn't say anything.

Jake pulled Rich’s hand toward him. “You were the only one who didn’t know, babe. How does that even feel? You started this, yet you had no idea.” He wiped a fake tear. “Poetic.”

Rich stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. “Shitty.”

Jake patted his boyfriend’s hand. “Sounds about right,” he said. 

Jeremy looked up at Michael. “Got what you wanted?”

Michael beamed happily. “Very much so,” he pulled Jeremy closer. “And now we don't have to be secretive.” He swooped in to peck Jeremy on the cheek softly. 

Rich whined. “What the hell, guys?”

Jeremy squeaked at the kiss. Despite his embarrassment, he tried to act smooth. “You and Jake can nearly fuck each other in front of Michael’s locker every day, but don’t tell me a kiss on the cheek makes you uncomfortable.”

Rich sulked, sinking down into his seat. “Not that, I mean why didn't you tell me?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Not our fault you can't see what's happening right in front of you.” 

————

Jeremy groaned as he got his sketch pad open to the page he was _supposed_ to be drawing Michael on. All he had was a deformed egg shape and a tiny Triforce scribbled in the corner. “I hate this assignment.”

Michael hummed as he flipped open his own pad. “But I love that _ass_.” He muttered offhandedly.

Jeremy froze and looked up at Michael in confusion. “What the fuck?” 

Michael shrugged. “I don't know.” He had a rough sketch of Jeremy down, but he had yet to start on any shading or details.

“Whose ass?” Jeremy questioned. 

“Your ass, who the fuck do you think?” Michael gave him a weird look. “Not my own ass. Although, I guess it is _my_ ass, now, huh?” 

“That...That makes sense, but only on another plane of existence.” Jeremy looked back down at his sketch pad. “You live in a different realm.”

Michael nodded solemnly. “I know. I'm tired as _fuck_. I don't know what I'm saying. I think I just said that your ass is mine now.”

“R-Right, but because we’re dating or because sometimes it literally is yours?” Jeremy needed to know. 

Michael laughed loudly. “Jeremy, you _know_ the answer to that question. But, really my ass is yours, I guess.”

“I’ve actually been thinking about that,” Jeremy said. “How can I be a top _and_ a twink? I think those don’t usually, uh, go together? I mean, just based on what you say a twink is...But whatever, what’s a virgin gonna know about that shit, huh? Ignore me. I don’t even know what a top is, really. They’re the one putting it in, but what else even is there to it? Fuck, I’m tired, too. You’re contagious.” He tried to hide his yawn from Michael behind his notebook. 

Michael choked on his laughter. “What the fuck are you talking about? God damn, you know what? Fuck art class, let's just take a nap. The teacher doesn't give a shit what we do as long as we're quiet.”

Jeremy shook his head. “I need to finish this drawing. It’s due soon. I don’t even have, like, your face done or anything.”

Michael groaned loudly. “But I'm tired.”

Jeremy pouted. “Me too, but please? I need a good grade, Mike.”

He sighed. “Fine.” he pulled out a pencil. “But later we’re taking a nap.”

“Fine, later,” Jeremy agreed. He went straight to work in trying to sketch Michael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry they didnt get in a car crash


	29. (please do not fuck 7/11s)

Art class went by like a breeze, the boys joking softly with each other as they worked on their respective drawings. After that class, the boys reluctantly parted ways once again to head to their next classes. Which, for Michael, was Chemistry.

Michael's chemistry classroom was setup so that all of the students sat at long tables rather than desks, meaning Michael ended up stuffed uncomfortably between Rich and a boy named Matthew Bersur. Now, this wouldn't have been so bad if Matthew didn't insist on trying to blatantly flirt with Michael every single day. Michael generally just ignored the boy, or talked to Rich in order to avoid him, but today things went a bit wrong.

Michael had just sat down with Rich after the bell rang when an all too familiar nausea crashed into him. “Oh shit,” he muttered. He tried to turn to Rich, to warn him, but as soon as he blinked he was staring up at a board displaying bellwork for an English 3 class.

Jeremy read the bellwork three times. Was he supposed to know the answer to that? Were they supposed to read over the chapter at home? How was he—an underachiever—supposed to know how Odysseus fought some kind of monster? Turned out it didn’t matter, because one second, he started to feel lightheaded, and the next, he was facing some sort of chemical equation and sitting next to Rich and some other guy. The switch must not have lasted very long that time. Damn. 

Michael groaned internally. There was no way they could meet up this time, he knew for a fact that his chemistry teacher never let people go to the bathroom. And texting would definitely get him detention if he were caught. Michael prayed that Jeremy would talk to Rich and get him to help. He sighed, looking up at the board. Guess he’s writing about Odysseus now. He flipped open Jeremy's binder to a new page. Luckily, he had already been through all of the Odyssey stuff, so he knew what to say.

Jeremy just had to be stuck with the school’s strictest teacher. He’d never been in his class before, but several times, he’d reprimanded Jeremy in the hallway for his shoes being untied or for shirt hem being folded up. What a douche. At least he wasn’t alone. He had Rich. He nudged him. “Hey, Rich,” he whispered, ignoring the strange look the boy to his right was giving him. 

Rich looked at him quizzically. He pulled out a loose sheet of notebook paper and scribbled something down on it quickly before sliding it over. 

R: wassup mikey?

Jeremy fished for Michael’s pencil. He glanced up to make sure the teacher was occupied before writing back and sliding the paper over. 

J: guess again dude

Rich's tensed slightly. He scribbled quickly, sliding the paper back once again. 

R: ah shit, for real? How ??

J: it just wears off and we never know when. mike probably tried to warn you. 

As Rich was writing down his response, a new slip of paper was suddenly slipped in front of Jeremy from his other side. It was written in messy chicken scratch.

'wanna go see a movie this weekend?’

Jeremy looked to his right. That kid was waiting anxiously for an answer. Who—Shit. The guy in chemistry. This was the guy they’d been talking about. How could Jeremy let him down without causing something? He wrote back. 

‘sorry, seen them all’

Rich slid the paper back to Jeremy. 

R: sry bro, I'll help u w ur work but ur gonna have to stay for the class

Before Jeremy had time to write anything else the other note was also slipped back onto his desk.

'then we could just go back to my place and have a good time ;)’

Jeremy answered the other guy first. 

‘No.’

He didn’t want to deal with that. Did Michael have to sit next to this every day? Jesus Christ. He wrote back to Rich. 

J: damn. you get to see how bad i am at being michael. 

Rich just smirked but didn't write anything else. Unfortunately, Matthew did. 

'why not? Promise I'll be good’

Jeremy grimaced. He was one of _those_ guys. Classic fuckboy. 

‘I’ve kind of got a boyfriend actually, so all my good times are gonna be with him. thx.’

Jeremy heard a soft scoff beside him.

'boyfriend? Who? That guy you always hang around with?’

Jeremy scoffed himself. How could he get this guy to back the hell off? 

‘um, yeah? my ass is his.’

The response was quick.

'isnt he a bit… straight? He doesn't seem like the best boyfriend. I'm sure u would be much happier w me’

Jeremy was becoming angrier. 

‘he’s bi, and we’re happy together.’

That was true, right? Michael was happy with Jeremy? He wanted to believe that. 

'he doesn't have to know’

That did it. 

‘what the fuck is wrong with you? stay away from me’

He could have written more, but he slid it back angrily when the teacher started to turn back around. 

Rich glanced at Jeremy momentarily but didn't do anything. Matthew still didn't seem to be getting the message. He waited until the teacher turned back to the board before slipping the note back once again.

'i can make you forget that other guy even exists’

That _really_ did it. 

Jeremy didn’t bother to pick his pencil back up. He found himself on his feet, hands slapped on the table, breath heavy. 

“Listen here,” he growled, quietly, but not too quietly. “Shut the fuck up, yeah? Mic—I’m not interested. You’re a fucking idiot. Lay off. I’m happy with my boyfriend, so leave me the fuck alone.” He felt his face become hotter with every word. Michael always did blush harder when he was angry. 

“Mr. Mell. Something you'd like to share with the class?”

Jeremy’s head snapped left to see the teacher, whose name he just couldn’t place, staring at him. “This guy’s harassing me, actually.” He wanted this kid to get what he deserved. 

Matthew stuttered in disbelief. “No, _actually_ this fagg-”

Before he could even get the word out, Rich was on his feet, his chair clattering noisily behind him. He turned to Matthew with a dangerous glint in his eye. “You better not finish that sentence.” He growled, eyes fierce. 

Jeremy whipped around, and seeing Rich’s expression—which he was used to being on the receiving end of—backed a few steps away. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. Did he just start a fight? 

“Now, Boys-” the teacher tried to interject, but was ignored. Matthew got to his feet as well, matching Rich's gaze.

“Or what, you're gonna sic your lapdog _boyfriend_ on me?” He sneered. He stood a good foot taller than Rich, but Rich didn't seemed fazed in the slightest.

“You better watch it, Bersur. I don't need Jake to fight for me.” Rich snarled back, stepping even closer. He may be short, but he sure as hell still managed to be intimidating.

Jeremy managed to back further away. He was totally freaking out. What had he done? He’d facilitated this—as Michael—and now what? They’d all get in trouble? Detention, suspension? Expulsion? His mind raced so quickly he wasn’t even paying attention to Rich and the other guy. 

“Excuse me!” The teachers commanding voice cut through the tense atmosphere. “That is _quite_ enough, you two! Mr. Bersur, principal's office. Now. We do _not_ tolerate hateful language here. Mr. Goranski, _sit back down._ ”

Matthew stammered indignantly before giving up in a huff. “ _Fine_.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it and marched out of the classroom without another word. 

“Now, if everyone is _quite finished_ , may we please get back to class.” The teacher sighed, making his way back to the board.

Jeremy numbly found his way back to Michael’s seat. “God,” he mumbled. “S-sorry, Rich.” This was why he and Michael had agreed to switch back immediately when this happened. But at least only the other guy got in trouble. That’s what Jeremy wanted. 

Rich shook his head. “No problem, dude. That guy is a major prick, anyway. Someone needed to call him out.” He smiled, back in his easy go lucky attitude as if nothing had happened.

Jeremy was still worried. “D-Does that guy bother Michael every day?” He felt sick to think about that. 

Rich sighed. “Yeah. I'm sorry, bro, I should've warned you about him.”  
”

Jeremy shivered. “At least he might leave him alone now.”

Rich nodded. “Oh, trust me, he isn't going to be doing anything to either of you any time soon. I still have a bit of a bone to pick with him. It’ll just have to wait 'till after school.”

“Please don’t get hurt, Rich,” Jeremy pleaded. He couldn’t have more bruises caused by his own stupidity. 

Rich grinned. “I’ll be fine.” He assured. Rich knew what he was doing.

Jeremy grimaced. “Great,” he murmured. 

\-------- 

After the period ended, Michael finally tracked down Jeremy. “Hey, dude, I totally slammed a pop quiz for you. I got that Odyssey shit in the bag.” He grinned widely as he approached the other boy.

Jeremy, still feeling a little out-of-body—totally not related to actually being out of his body—from witnessing whatever the hell that was in Michael’s chemistry class, nodded absently. “C-cool,” he responded. 

Michael's eyebrows furrowed slightly at Jeremy's distracted response. “Hey, you good? Did something happen?”

Jeremy shoved Michael’s glasses up his nose, letting out a sigh when they fell back down. “Uh, I might have almost started a fight…?”

“A fight? What?” Michael blinked in confusion. “What the hell happened?”

Jeremy looked Michael in the eyes. “That guy that sits next to you in chemistry? He, uh...I think he’s not a good guy.”

Michael tensed at the mention of the boy. “Fuck. What did he say to you?”

“A-A lot…? I said I had—well, I said _you_ had a boyfriend, and he was kinda being a jackass saying to cheat on me, and—” Jeremy took a deep breath. “Rich might be fighting him later.”

Michael grit his teeth angrily. “He never knows when to _fucking stop_ does he? Jesus.“ He sighed suddenly. “I'm sorry you had to deal with that.”

Jeremy broke eye contact. “I’m sorry _you_ have to deal with that. Every day? Rich said that. That’s ridiculous. I kinda hope Rich beats him up. Kinda.” More than kinda. He hoped that kid never came back to chemistry class. 

Michael shrugged, taking Jeremy's hand in his. “Yeah. Don't worry, I'd never cheat on you. Especially with that jackass.” He promised, moving slightly closer.

Jeremy stared at their hands together. “Yeah, no, of course.” He trusted Michael. Completely. It wasn’t an issue. Even if he didn’t understand why Michael wouldn’t leave him after all the things he did, he trusted that he wouldn’t. It was who Michael was. “Are we switching back, then?” he asked a little anxiously. 

Michael nodded, smiling. “Well, yeah, unless you want to deal with being me for even longer. Do you wanna go to the bathroom or…?”

Jeremy looked Michael back in the eyes. He smiled—it was Michael’s smug one, with the twinkle in his eye. “Nah,” he said, leaning down to kiss Michael in the open. 

Michael's breath caught as their lips met in a soft kiss. He pulled away slightly, eyes lidded and only a breath away from the other boy. “Damn,” he started, laughing slightly. “Maybe I should get propositioned more often.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jeremy dismissed. Now that he was his normal pale self, his blush was very evident. Even still, he wanted to kiss Michael again. He knew it would be counterproductive, but that didn’t stop his desires. 

Michael, albeit _very reluctantly_ , pulled away with a sigh. “Just one more day, yeah? Then we can be as gay as we want.” He teased, poking Jeremy in the side.

Jeremy swatted Michael’s hand away and scoffed. “It’s feeling like an eternity. All this shit? Time is warped or something. This couldn’t have all happened so quickly.” He sighed. A whole lot really had gone on in the past few days. It was daunting to think back to the beginning. 

Michael hummed softly. “Maybe I got hit in the head and this is all actually just a fucked up coma.” He mused.

“Maybe I’m in a coma instead,” Jeremy countered. “I’ll wake up, having realized I’m into you, naturally, and there’ll be some sad but unnecessary hospital scene where you tell me you almost pulled my life support but your tears woke me up and I’ll kiss you, and roll credits.”

Michael snickered, pulling Jeremy into a hug. “Or maybe I woke you up with a kiss, like in that sleeping beauty shit.” He rested his chin on Jeremy's shoulder. This was kinda intimate for the school hallway, and he didn't want to end up being one of _those_ couples, but pretty much all of the students had found their way to their classes. So the boys were pretty much alone.

Jeremy leaned his head closer to Michael’s. He was warm, and Jeremy was usually cold. It felt nice, especially after a stressful time in Michael’s chemistry class. “Didn’t the prince rape Sleeping Beauty, dude?” he asked. “In the original, I’m pretty sure he did.”

Michael's eyebrows shot up in surprise, even though Jeremy couldn't see him. “Woah, that's fucked up, dude, why did Disney make it a movie?”

“Money,” Jeremy answered simply. 

“Damn.” Michael paused, breathing in Jeremy’s scent. “We should probably get to class, huh?”

Jeremy looked down, but didn’t dare move his head. He wanted to stand with Michael in that position as long as he could. “I guess.”

Michael hummed, eyes falling shut. “Or~” he began, “We could go back to your place and have that nap you promised me.”

“Skipping again? Michael, that was fun and all, but my grades can’t handle this.” Jeremy awkwardly put his arm around Michael’s shoulder in consolation. 

Michael didn’t move from his place. “What class do you have? It’s our last period of the day, I can help you with your makeup work and shit.” he paused, turning. His head so that he could nuzzle Jeremy's neck slightly. “I wanna cuddle.”

“You know I have to go to gym, Michael,” Jeremy reasoned. “I can’t keep making excuses so I don’t have to run laps.” He shivered. He hated gym. Only people like Jake and Rich liked it. Gym class was a classic example of minority rule. “It’s only 45 minutes. Then we can cuddle, I promise. You can drive home the long way so we don’t pass any 7/11s.” He didn’t think he could handle walking back into one of those stores anytime soon. 

Michael pouted, but relented. “Fuck 7/11s. Fine, go run your laps and perish.” He pulled back from the hug. “We better go for real, the bell's gonna ring any second.”

Jeremy looked up at the clock hanging at the end of the hall. “Fuck, Michael, why’d you distract me like this?!” He didn’t bother saying goodbye before dashing down the hallway as fast as he could. 

Michael snickered to himself, pulling out him phone to shoot off a quick text that he knew Jeremy wouldn't see until he had gotten to class.

M: hate to see u leave, but love 2 watch u go

He pocketed his phone before strolling casually toward his next class.


	30. (Please Do Not Fuck Chemistry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more NOTHING!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as two ppl on the ace spectrum the end of this was painful but it shouldnt be too bad its just kissing (no spoilers ;))

Turned out, gym class was more than just running laps that day. Jeremy had heard of the FitnessGram™ Pacer Test. He’d participated before. Everyone knew about it. Everyone hated it. It didn’t matter if you were a guy like Jake or a guy like Jeremy, everyone despised the Pacer Test. 

Coach Daniels had sprung this on the whole class, who collectively groaned and swore under their breaths. He put the CD in an old player, one the school used for pep rallies. Leaving the voice on the recording to do his job, he sat back with a magazine. 

The Pacer Test is simple. There’s a beep, you run to the opposite line on the floor before the next beep, and the increments get smaller until you’re forced to run faster. If you don’t reach the other line by the second beep twice, your test ends. 

It may be simple, but it’s also hell. The stress caused by the Pacer Test reportedly instantly kills some students. In Florida, a man died just listening to the YouTube recording of the CD. 

Needless to say, Jeremy had not had a great time. He’d completed the first fifteen or so stages—they were easy to instill a false sense of security in the runners before crushing them in front of their whole class. The thing was, though, Jeremy had stamina problems. Once he reached the seventeenth round, the beeps from the recording faded out and his ears were ringing. He felt exhausted. He couldn’t hear the timer, and ended up failing out on round twenty. 

Although everyone felt the way Jeremy did, laughs echoed in the gym directed at him. It was an unspoken rule of the Pacer Test to laugh when someone fails. Superstition had it that laughing made you feel better about your own early failure. It never did, though. 

Jeremy sat catching his breath with great difficulty for the rest of the class, himself laughing at some other runners when they’d failed to complete a lap. He couldn’t escape the legend, after all. Finally, the bell rang, and though his ears were still whack and his legs felt like jelly, Jeremy bolted out of the gym at a speed that would probably have made the FitnessGram™ Pacer Test short circuit. 

Michael was idling by his car, waiting for Jeremy like he usually did. He straightened up when he saw the aforementioned boy sprinting towards him like hell was on his heels. “Woah, where the fire?”

Jeremy was ready to cry. He was so out of breath, all he could do was whisper a “Pacer Test” before having to hold himself up by leaning on Michael’s car’s hood. 

Michael sucked in a breath through his teeth, hissing in empathy. “Yikes, I'm surprised you're still alive.” He unlocked the car doors, pulling the driver side open. “But at least you're worn out now! Cuddle time!” He paused. “You better not stink or I'm suing.”

“Michael,” Jeremy whined, “I feel like I’m gonna vomit.” He coughed. “I didn’t even have my medicine today, do you really want to cuddle and get puked on?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Hey, a deal is a deal. I always want to cuddle. And you aren't going to puke. Probably. If you do, do it out the window. Get in the car, I want to go home.”

Jeremy let out a childish whine and threw himself through the passenger door onto the seat. “Just don’t swerve, please.”

Michael chuckled softly, sliding into his own seat. “I’ll try my best.”

\---------

Jeremy had ended up leaning the seat back a little to be more comfortable. Finally, though, they arrived at Michael’s house. He’d counted several times on the way how many more hours of school they had before they could check the front door for that package. Ugh, eight and a half. Jeremy reluctantly opened the car door. 

Michael watched Jeremy stumble out of the door. “You good, bro?” Maybe that pacer test had taken a bigger toll than he had thought.

Jeremy whipped around, almost falling, and glared into Michael’s eyes. “Is that a _joke_?” he spat. “You ever take that Pacer Test, man? You seem uneducated.”

Michael scoffed slightly. “Well, yeah, but usually people aren't winded for an hour afterwards. Do you have lung problems or something? Jesus, you're like an old man.”

“Dude, it’s withdrawals,” Jeremy explained loudly. “You’ve seen me without my pills before, that test just- it expedited it! And you know I’m a weak ass noodle, why the hell are you surprised?”

Michael snorted, moving to help Jeremy inside. “At least you're _my_ weak ass noodle. And at least your ass isn't weak.” He added suggestively.

Jeremy groaned. “Yeah, reminds me, nice text you sent. Coach Daniels saw it, you know.” He sighed. “Why couldn’t we have just switched during gym? You clearly deserve the pain of the Pacer.” He was joking, of course, but only mostly because it would still have been his body in pain. 

Michael held a hand to his chest in mock pain. “To think, my own boyfriend would put such a curse on me.”

Jeremy weakly looked up at Michael. “No regrets.”

\---------

The boys stumbled inside and up to Jeremy’s room. Michael laid Jeremy down on the bed before he went downstairs to get some water and Tylenol for the other boy to take. He wasn't sure if it was going to help, but it was worth a shot. He made his way back upstairs, entering Jeremy's room with medicine and water in hand. “Nurse Mell, reporting for duty.”

“Just let me die,” Jeremy groaned, curled up in a small ball shape on the bed near the pillow, but not quite on it. “It’s the only thing that can save my soul.”

“Sorry, buddy, but there's no saved souls here. Take this.” He offered the Tylenol and water out to Jeremy as he gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. “It might help. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Jeremy squeaked out. He needed relief or death, whichever came first.

Michael shrugged. “It's worth a shot.”

“Just pour it down my throat,” Jeremy whined. He didn’t want to experience the familiar vertigo that accompanied sitting up too fast.

Michael snorted to himself. “Dude, that's kinda kinky.”

“Jesus, just--” Jeremy sat up anyway, his head swimming. “Hand it over, kink lord.”

Michael laughed as he did just that, moving to sit on the bed next to Jeremy properly. “I try my best.”

“Do better.” Jeremy tossed the pill back with expert fashion, downing about half the water quickly. Then, he flopped back on the bed and groaned yet again.

Michael placed the water glass and pill bottle onto the nightstand beside the bed. He fell backwards so that he was laying next to Jeremy. “Can we please cuddle now?” He whined. He was having intense cuddle withdrawal today. He needed his Jeremy snuggle fix.

“Do I even have a choice?” Jeremy asked, though he was fine with the cuddling. He needed it, too. The two of them probably needed to cuddle for six years straight to balance out all the negative emotions of the past few days.

“Nope.” Michael threw an arm around his boyfriend, pulling him closer. He was careful to try and avoid the areas he remembered to be bruised as he wrapped himself around Jeremy tightly, inhaling his smell and letting the calming feeling of _Jeremy_ wash over him.

Jeremy let himself be pulled closer to Michael. He hummed as his boyfriend’s warmth engulfed him, instantly doing a better job at making him feel better than any sort of medicine could do. He took a few deep breaths. “So about that guy in your chem class…”

Michael grumbled unhappily. “He's a fuckass hoe.”

“I know how this is gonna sound, but,” Jeremy started, “I don’t want you sitting near that guy anymore.”

Michael's eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Feeling jealous?” He teased. “Don't worry, I’m gonna switch seats tomorrow. I don't plan on sitting near anyone who tries to get me to cheat on my boyfriend. That's fucked up.”

Jeremy had felt his face redden at the accusation of being jealous. “Good,” he sighed. “Don’t get harassed, Micah.”

“I'm not-” he stopped. “Oh, shit, was I being harassed?” he was dumbfounded. He had never thought about it that way.

“Michael, I don’t know a lot about this shit, but it sounded like harassment to me.” Jeremy turned to look at him. “He wouldn’t leave me alone, pretty sure that’s some sort of violation.”

Michael thought about it. “Holy hell, I've been being harassed! What the fuck. Fuck chemistry.” He tightened his arms around Jeremy ever so slightly.

Jeremy nearly melted into Michael’s firmer touch. “At least you know, now.” He sighed. “What a fuckboy. He went to the office but I’m sure he didn’t get in trouble.”

“He's an asshole.” Michael agreed. “I doubt he’s ever even fucked anyone. What a piece of shit.” He couldn't believe that guy had tried to convince him to _cheat_. Who the hell did he think he was? “What exactly did he say, anyway?”

“He just said stuff like…” Jeremy pondered. “Like that I didn’t have to know about it. And that he’d be ‘good’.”

Michael scoffed. “What a fuck. I bet he wouldn't even last a minute, his bitch ass self. Fuck him.”

“Don’t fuck him, Micah,” Jeremy ordered. 

Michael laughed loudly. “I'm not gonna fuck him, Jerm. My ass is yours, remember?”

Jeremy was silent for a short while. He finally spoke up. “Really, though, can the top be the little spoon? I think your thought process is flawed.”

Michael grinned wickedly, unwrapping his arms. He pushed himself up, moving so that he hovered above Jeremy, one arm on either side of his head. “Jere, trust me. You can _definitely_ be a twink and also a top.” He met his gaze with a devious gleam in his eye.

Jeremy stared nervously and unblinking into Michael’s eyes. His lips parted as he gasped just loudly enough that Michael probably heard it. He was going to say something—though he really didn’t know _how_ to respond to something like that—when that damn wave of nausea overcame him and he found himself above Michael in his body. He gulped, taking in the new position hovering over his boyfriend. Michael looked too shellshocked to speak, so Jeremy did what his instincts told him to. He screwed his eyes shut and lowered his lips onto Michael’s within the first ten seconds of their switching back. 

Michael made a noise somewhere in between a whine and a yelp. Holy shit, Jeremy, since when did he take the lead in this kind of thing? Not that Michael was complaining, though. The sudden kiss, mixed with the rapid switching made Michael's head spin, but not unpleasantly. He acted off of instinct, keeping their lips connected as he grabbed Jeremy's thin frame and flipped them so that Jeremy was now on top.

Jeremy didn’t open his eyes, nor did he pull his lips away. He figured they’d be fine as long as they stayed connected. Though he was thrown off just a bit by Michael’s grip on his body and being flipped over, he quickly got his shaky arms to hold himself above Michael. Feeling confident, he rested all his weight on one arm beside Michael’s head and placed his other hand gently on his boyfriend’s cheek. The medicine must have been working, because he suddenly noticed how well he was feeling. 

Michael's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. He didn't anticipate just _how much_ he was going to like it when Jeremy took the lead. He tried to shift so that he could angle his head the other direction without breaking the kiss, but they must have come apart at some point because Michael found himself once again on top. Oh well, just meant more kisses.

Jeremy laughed a little and pulled Michael closer down toward him, separating their lips further deliberately and crashing them back together with more hunger than before. Being back on top felt more right, anyway. 

Michael bit back a groan at Jeremy's enthusiasm. Damn, no wonder Rich and Jake made out so much. Michael shifted slightly, pulling Jeremy closer, but then he froze. He pulled away, face burning suddenly. “Uh, Jeremy? Is that…?”

“No!” Jeremy squeaked, face reddening by the second. “Y-You’re delusional!” It’s not like he could help his teenage hormone-fueled body. 

Michael moved his leg slightly. “I don't think I am.” He teased, eyes darkening. “I think little Jere-bear has a boner just from making out a little.”

Jeremy bit his lip, hard. “I-I do _not_ ,” he tried to say firmly, but his voice was crackly and high. The look in Michael’s eyes didn’t make his problem any better. 

Michael pulled Jeremy even closer, eyes lidded heavily. He hummed. “That's not what your d—”

The door swung open suddenly. “Hey, boys, I— oh.” 

Jeremy’s arms gave out and he fell flat against Michael. “ _Dad_?!”


	31. (please do not fuck fudge pops)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yoU DID THIS @THESALTYDRAGON  
> (This one is 4 u, Seb. Have fun reading it in class, soñ) -sux
> 
> you TOLD ME TO -dragon

Michael coughed awkwardly. “Oh, uh… hey.. Mr. Heere.” He greeted. He tried to ignore the fact that he was currently underneath his son with his leg between the other boy’s. And that Jeremy still had a boner. Well, Jeremy's dad was bound to find out eventually.

Jeremy scrambled for words. “D-Dad, h-hey, I was just—we were looking for, uh, the remote, do you see it on the floor?” Wow, real convincing. Like he didn’t just pop one of the most painful boners of his life. 

Mr. Heere blinked and didn't say anything. He slowly backed out of the room. Michael held back a laugh. 

“Oops.”

“Oh my _fucking_ god, Michael,” Jeremy groaned. “He’s gonna—shit, he—is he gonna give me the talk now?!”

Michael choked back more laughter. “P-probably.”

Jeremy lightly punched Michael’s arm. “I hate you.”

Michael snorted. “Not from my point of view.” He moved his leg slightly, bringing Jeremy's attention back to the matter at hand. “You might wanna go… take care of that, buddy.”

Jeremy groaned again in frustration. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he spat as he rolled off of Michael and to his feet, now pretty sure the Tylenol had taken affect. 

Michael snickered to himself. “Yes, I would, actually.” He teased, watching Jeremy get to his feet. “But unfortunately I think you're gonna have to take care of it on your own. This time.”

“Jesus—I’ll be back, jerk.” Jeremy stumbled, still blushing wildly, into the hallway toward the bathroom. This was all too embarrassing. 

Michael, once Jeremy had left the room, finally felt himself blush. Holy shit. _Holy Shit._ Did that really just happen? Had his best friend really just gotten an entire boner just from kissing him? Fuck. That's… really cute, actually. Holy hell, Michael was really in way too deep with his feelings for this boy. Jesus. He was probably in the bathroom jacking off right now and all Michael could think about was how cute he is. Fuck.

—————

Jeremy finally came back and slammed his bedroom door behind him. He’d tried to wait until his blush subsided, but he didn’t want to keep Michael wondering what he was taking so long for. He knew the other boy might have quite the unnecessary imagination. He fell face first into his pillow and groaned loudly, muffled by the dense material. 

Michael smiled and rubbed Jeremy's back lightly. “Yeah.” He agreed. He contemplated teasing him about his trip to the bathroom, but wasn't sure if he wanted to bring it back up just yet.

“Everything hates me,” Jeremy muttered into the pillow, letting Michael rub his back. It felt nice. He could get used to that. 

“I don't hate you.” He paused. “Did you think of me?” He asked, ignoring the light blush he felt flooding his cheeks at the thought.

“What was I _supposed_ to think about?” Jeremy spat as he flipped over, immediately covering his face with his hands. 

Michael's breath hitched and he couldn’t stop himself as he whined slightly. He hadn't expected an actual answer, especially one of confirmation. Damn, Jeremy. “You're gonna be the death of me.” He mumbled, mouth suddenly dry. 

“You already killed me!” Jeremy complained. He was glad he’d already taken care of his problem, because the noise Michael just made may have worsened it. 

“Apparently.” He muttered, flipping over onto his side to wrap his arms around Jeremy. “At least now you can have afterglow cuddles and shit.” He laughed to himself. Jeremy was such a fucking mess when it came to his dick. 

Jeremy only hummed in response. He reflexively backed a little closer to Michael, for his warmth. He could not wait to sleep. The past few hours had been truly something else. 

Michael lightly nuzzled the back of Jeremy's neck, sighing lightly. “We're going to have to face your dad sooner or later.”

“Can it be later?” Jeremy mumbled. He did not want another emotional talk. Not until the cause of all of this was finally fixed. It shouldn’t be too long now. 

Michael grinned to himself at Jeremy's sleepy tone. “Getting off must really tire you out. Wanna take a nap?” He offered, pulling him impossibly closer. 

“I wanna,” Jeremy whined. He didn’t want anything but a nap at that moment. 

“Okay.” Michael agreed, pulling his glasses off. He reached over Jeremy to place them on the bedside table before turning to pull the curtains closed. “Then let's take a nap.” He resumed his previous position on hugging Jeremy to his body.

Jeremy smiled a little. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, Micah.”

Michael yawned, suddenly exhausted himself. “That's gay.” He mumbled sleepily, burying his face into Jeremy's hair. He smelled nice. Soothing. Michael was asleep within minutes.

—————

When Jeremy opened his eyes again, the digital alarm clock by his face read 3:11. In the morning. That was a long nap. The second thought in his head was how hungry he was. They’d slept right through the afternoon and had missed Jeremy’s normal dinner time. He flipped over to face Michael, grateful that they hadn’t switched in their sleep. He patted the other boy’s sleeping face. 

Michael grumbled, swatting Jeremy's hand away. “What time is it?” He muttered groggily. The insistent pats were a common way for Jeremy to wake him. Didn't make it easier to get up, though.

“3 am,” Jeremy mumbled. “Sneak downstairs to get food with me.” He kept patting Michael’s face. It was so soft and warm. “Please?”

Michael groaned, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He swatted Jeremy's hand away again before forcing himself to sit up. “Fine, but only because I'm hungry as fuck, too.” He reached over to grab his glasses off of the table, slipping them on with a sigh. “You should only be awake at three in the morning if you're stoned or haven't gone to sleep yet.”

“Well I’m hungry, and that’s the third exception,” Jeremy said. He sat up as well, feeling cold at the absence of Michael’s warmth against him. “How much do you think we can sneak back up here?”

“We once made a whole box of macaroni, I think we'll be fine. Besides, I doubt your dad is really in the mindset of wanting to encounter us right now.”

“Ugh, I guess,” Jeremy groaned. He pushed off on the mattress and stood up. Stretching, the sound of his joints popping filled the silent room. 

Michael watched him stretch, sleepiness leaving his body as he watched Jeremy's shirt hem lift slightly, exposing a thin strip of skin. He reflexively reached out to touch him, not paying attention to his actions.

Jeremy gasped at the touch, his arms falling down immediately and his shirt covering both the skin of his midsection and Michael’s hand connected to it. He didn’t dare say anything to ruin the moment. 

Michael lightly skimmed his hand along the skin of Jeremy's stomach, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You have a really nice body.” Michael didn't really have much of a filter when he was tired- verbally or physically.

Jeremy’s hand covered Michael’s wrist, letting it guide him along. His face was again red with blush. “I’m just a pale twig, Mikey,” he whispered, waiting to see what Michael would do next. 

Michael shook his head, bringing his hand up to Jeremy's waist and around to his back, pulling him closer so that he stood in between Michael's legs where he sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up at him, eyes sincere. “I love your pale twig body. I love _you._ ”

Jeremy squeaked as he was pulled, knowing his face was probably even deeper red, though it felt impossible. His one hand stayed over Michael’s while his other hand caught himself from falling on Michael’s knee. He squeaked again as he tried to answer, “I-I love you, too, I-I really do.” He meant it. Had he said it for a second time yet? No matter. He still meant it, maybe even more than anything he’d ever said before. 

Michael smiled at him softly, bringing his other hand up underneath Jeremy's shirt as well. He lifted the fabric up just enough to press a soft kiss to Jeremy's stomach. “Let's go get some food.” He muttered, standing up. He reluctantly retracted his hands from under Jeremy's shirt, looking down at the flustered boy.

Jeremy sputtered, not computing what just happened. He was fairly sure he’d just...relieved himself before they’d fallen asleep. He wasn’t quite sure, however, if the problem was returning. Jesus fuck. He stood unable to speak, trying to focus on the ghost Michael’s lips left on his stomach. Michael must really love him, huh?

Michael linked their fingers together, turning to tug him down out of the room and down the stairs. Damn, he was really hungry. And gay. Fuck.

Jeremy was tugged as he thought about Michael—really, he was all he could think about. He barely had time, though, as soon he found the both of them in the kitchen. 

Michael released Jeremy's hand as he wandered over to the fridge. “What do you even have to eat?” He questioned, pulling the door open.

“I know dad just bought some popsicles. I think we have a couple Hot Pockets left.” Jeremy’s voice was still crackling, but he’d managed to compose himself. 

Michael grinned, pulling open the door to the freezer. “Hells yes.” He grabbed three Hot Pockets and two popsicles, dropping them down onto the counter. “Here, we can eat these while I warm the hot pockets up.” He handed Jeremy one of the fudge pops, ripping open the other for himself.

Jeremy took the pop and looked around them skeptically. “Can you keep it down? I don’t want my dad even hearing us. Just more assumptions he’ll make about us.” He licked some ice off the sides of the fudge. 

Michael shrugged, sticking the popsicle in his mouth so that he had both hands free to open up the hot Pockets and stick them in the microwave. He set the timer and started it up before turning back to Jeremy, pulling the popsicle back out of his mouth. “Oh well.” He dismissed lightly, leaning back against the counter.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and moved over to watch the microwave plate spin. He absently stuck his popsicle in his mouth as he always did, first melting the ice off of the sides so he could access the flavor. Still watching the microwave, he moved the pop in his mouth so he maintained maximum coverage. 

Michael, who had been watching Jeremy, choked on his own popsicle. Holy fucking shit. He coughed loudly, trying to gather himself. “Fuck me, Jeremy, did you just-” he cleared his scratchy throat. “Did you just fucking _deepthroat_ a popsicle?” The kitchen suddenly felt very hot. Was Michael sweating?

Jeremy slowly pulled the fudge pop out of his mouth, catching a few melted drops with his tongue before they could fall on his shirt or the floor. “Huh?” he asked innocently. “Dude, are you okay? Sit down.”

Michael's face was on fire. There's no way Jeremy didn't know what he was doing, right? “Oh my God.” He choked out, eyes locked on Jeremy's lips. “What the _fuck_.” _Why the fuck was Jeremy so good at deepthroating popsicles?_

Jeremy put his hand on his hip. “Michael, dude, sit down.” He used the popsicle to gesture to one of the kitchen chairs. Then, as slowly as he’d taken it out, he put the fudge pop back in, an awkward slurping sound accompanied. 

Michael almost screamed. “Fuck! _Dude, please._ ” This was cruel and unusual punishment. Michael was going to sue. “Jesus Christ.” He shivered, sitting down. He didn't sign up for a 3 am tease with a damned popsicle.

Jeremy ripped the popsicle from his mouth. “What did I do?!” He really didn’t know what the hell was up with Michael. 

Michael whined loudly. “How the fuck did you only just figure out you're bi?” He questioned, dropping his head into his hands. If Jeremy kept that up then Michael would be in desperate need of a cold shower very soon.

“Seriously,” Jeremy articulated, “what the hell is going on?” He took a step towards Michael. “Can you just tell me? You’re being all weirdly vague and it’s scaring the Hot Pockets.”

Michael looked up at Jeremy, eyebrows raised. He crooked a finger at him, motioning him closer. “Do you really want to know?” He whispered hoarsely, a deep pain in his eyes.

Jeremy grimaced at Michael’s pained face and stepped even closer upon beckoning. “Uh, yeah?” he said. “Then I can help? Dude, maybe you just need to go back to sleep.”

Michael grabbed Jeremy by his belt loops, pulling him closer. Jeremy was standing in between Michael's legs for the second time that night as Michael looked him in the eyes, straight faced, and said, “You deepthroat popsicles like a fucking champ.” 

Jeremy had a choice. He could squeak like usual and blush like mad, stammer and just wait for Michael to do something, anything. Or, he could see how far this went. Though he couldn’t help gasping a little at the sudden position he found himself in, he did his best to compose himself and didn’t respond verbally. Instead, keeping the intense eye contact Michael had initiated, Jeremy stuck the fudge pop back into his mouth, a smidge deeper than before, due to the way it had melted. 

Michael thought he might cry. Holy mother of all fucks, since _when_ did Jeremy act like this? He couldn't stop the low groan that escaped him as he brought one of his hands up to cover the bottom half of his face. His blood was burning. “God damn.” He muttered, gulping.

Jeremy pulled it out again. Awkwardly, he spoke low, “Now who’s the one with the problem, huh?”

Michael whined again, punching Jeremy's shoulder lightly. Fuck fudge pops. He turned around, dropping his own forgotten popsicle into the sink before turning back to Jeremy. He wasn't going down without a fight. He grabbed Jeremy's hand that held the popsicle, bringing it up to his own lips. He took in as much as he could while maintaining intense eye contact with Jeremy. Now who's fucked, huh Jeremy?

Jeremy’s face held more shock than lust. “Dude, that’s my popsicle!” he stage-whispered. “Fuck, man, that’s my food, Michael.” Instead of appearing aroused, he pouted. 

Michael grinned, pulling back and wiping his mouth. “Maybe one day it'll be your dick. And it's not like we haven't swapped spit before. Besides, you can have it back if you want.” He stuck his chocolate covered tongue out at Jeremy teasingly. “Dork.”

Jeremy examined the rest of the fudge pop in his hand. Michael was right, they’d ingested each other’s spit before. “Oh, stop,” he said. “You’re the one turned on by a popsicle.” He pushed the thought of spit out of his mind and went back to the way he was eating before. 

Michael grabbed his wrist again, meeting his eyes with a stern look. “Jeremy, for real, if you don't stop sucking on that thing like it is an actual dick I might jump you.” He warned.

Jeremy’s eyes—though he honestly tried to stop them—may have glanced a bit below Michael’s belt. He resisted Michael’s grip on his wrist and stuck the popsicle in one more time, this time, however, he bit down hard, pulling only half the pop back out. “That turn you off yet?” he said smugly. He wasn’t in the mood for anything intimate that night. Especially with his dad there, and especially when a kiss could change everything. 

Michael rolled his eyes, releasing Jeremy's wrist. He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to give him a light peck on the tip of his nose. “Better.” He confirmed, patting his cheek. He paused as he pulled away, biting his bottom lip in thought.

“Hey, Jeremy? I know we haven't, like, set any rules or anything, and it's only been, like, two days since we started dating but…” he paused again, looking down at the floor as he blushed sweetly. “I don't want to… _do_ anything, at least until we're fixed. Is that.. okay?”

Jeremy nodded. “Of course, Mikey, anything you want’s fine.” It felt weird to talk about that with Michael. Two days ago, they’d been best friends. But Jeremy wouldn’t rather talk about it with anyone else. 

Michael smiled, leaning into Jeremy. “Thanks.” He moved down to Jeremy's neck, right where the base of it met his collar bone. He bit down, sucking softly before lathing his tongue over it and pulling away. It wasn't overly sensual or anything, just quick and efficient, enough to leave a dark mark on Jeremy's pale skin. “There. A promise that we can do whatever you want as soon as we're fixed, okay?”

Jeremy whimpered, but only a little. “Micah, I want whatever you do,” he whispered. He had a realization. “Our Hot Pockets!!” he said pretty loudly, silently chastising himself for his volume. “They’re done!”

Michael laughed as Jeremy shuffled over to the microwave excitedly. Fuck, he loved him. Probably too much. But who cares, because Jeremy loved him back. So they can be happy together, and everything will work out fine.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ACE-SPEC SCREAMING


	32. (Please Do Not Fuck That Guy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT read this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seriously DONT

After eating their Hot Pockets, the boys had crept back upstairs to sleep for the remaining two hours they could before school. Jeremy had resumed his position of being little spoon to a warm godlike entity. His side still hurt like all hell, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to pay if it meant Michael hugging him.

When the clock finally rang with its alarm of the “Waka Waka” sound Pac-Man makes, Jeremy was once again out of his own body. He was grateful for the switches they missed; anything beat feeling the awful wave of nausea that came with every unintentional swap.

He took his arm off of Michael and sat up. Turning the alarm off, he saw the date spelled in red block letters above the displayed time. It was finally Friday. Just eight and a half more school hours until they could get to Michael’s house and chug every drop of that new soda. Jeremy felt excited. This meant he and Michael could move forward in their relationship the normal way. It’s all he wanted.

For now, though, school was still happening. He looked down at Michael—excited again for the coming time where he could look at Michael and it would be him instead of some pale twig Michael seems infatuated with—and decided he could let him sleep just a few more minutes. He deserved it with all the turmoil that seemed to surround their lives.

Jeremy stood up slowly. He could at least help Michael clean up a bit, right? His boyfriend had washed his hair after all. He quietly made his way into the bathroom, relieved that his father wasn’t in there already. Locking the door, he turned the light on. In the mirror was Michael, of course, but he looked exhausted. Jeremy reached up to wipe some sleep out of his eyes. He noted the hickeys hadn’t faded at all yet, and there were bags—small, but noticeable without Michael’s glasses—under his eyes. He knew he probably looked the same way.

He ran some water and washed his face. He even used the special face soap he’d never opened. He couldn’t give Michael a sub par experience. He noticed that Michael’s hair still seemed as clean as ever, high and fluffy and soft, though messy. Jeremy ran his hairbrush through it to try and make it look more like Michael’s usual style.

He snuck back in his bedroom and back to the bathroom with Michael’s glasses in order to clean them. They were filthy. How could anyone see out of those? All the same, Jeremy washed them carefully with the materials his father had in the bathroom for his reading glasses. He put them on to test them out, and it looked like a whole new world had opened in front of him. He hoped Michael would like it.

Jeremy remembered that Michael hadn’t brought a change of clothes. He could work with that. He took a lint roller and cleared up the shirt and pants he was wearing. He also took some of the cologne his aunt had given him and spritzed some over the clothes so they’d seem fresher. Lastly, he snuck back in and back out of his room yet again and returned to the bathroom swiftly to clean up Michael’s white sneakers. It was unnecessary, but there wasn’t much left to do, and he hoped it would make Michael happy. They didn’t look all that much whiter, but there was an obvious change.

Jeremy really wanted Michael to feel better today. He knew it was hard for Michael to kind of be as open as Jeremy could be, and his humor was a definite coping mechanism, but the sluggishness stuck in Michael’s body and the bags under his eyes were evidence that he needed some help. This was just a start. Jeremy planned on making their last switched day a stress free one. Well, as stress free as possible. It wasn’t going to be easy.

Michael grumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes. What the fuck. He was tired as hell. He sighed, patting the bed next to him in search of his boyfriend's comfortable warmth. He groaned again when he only found an empty space, ghosted with a fading residual heat. “Jeremy,” he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

“Where did you go?” He pouted, cracking an eye open to glance around the room.

Jeremy popped his head back into the bedroom at the sound of a voice calling for him—his own crackly high pitched voice. “Michael?” He stepped in fully. “Oh, you’re up, great.” He grinned. “I gave you a kinda makeover!”

Michael's eyes finally opened all the way. “Makeover? What the hell?” He sat up, automatically looking down at himself before realizing that he was in Jeremy's body. He turned to look at where the other boy was timidly idling in the doorway. He looked… good. Better than he had for the past couple of days. “Did you… clean my shoes?”

“That’s not bad, is it?” Jeremy asked anxiously. “I thought they’d look nicer. I cleaned your glasses, too! You _have_ to try them. It’s a miracle.” He was excited to show Michael the things he’d done for him. To see him smile was his only goal for now.

Michael did smile. But not because of what Jeremy did, he couldn't care less about the state of his things. He smiled because of how excited Jeremy seemed to be. He loved how Jeremy seemed so proud, like a child who had just drawn a family portrait for his parents. “No, it's not bad. They do look better. Thank you.” He took in his body once again. He really _did_ look more put together.

“You like it?” Jeremy asked excitedly. “I figured you deserve this—I mean, you deserve so much more than this, but...as of now, here you go.” His grin didn’t falter. “How awake are you?”

Michael's heart melted slightly, his grin becoming dopey. “Vaguely. And you know you don't have to do this kind of stuff for me, dude. As long as you love me I’m all good.” He was such a sap. Damn. Michael 'hopeless romantic’ Mell, reporting for duty.

“Well, I do, but you also just deserve nice things, you know?” Jeremy figured the guilt about everything from the past few months had been manifesting itself in the form of mediocre favors for Michael.

Michael's smile softened as he nodded. “Thank you.” He shuffled around so that he was sat at the edge of the bed, his body now facing Jeremy completely, as he stretched tiredly. He yawned slightly, blinking back the remaining grogginess in favor of looking up at Jeremy and holding his arms out in front of him. “Hug.” He whined childishly. Michael didn't know if it was Jeremy's body or just his own urges, but he had felt especially needy for physical affection lately.

Jeremy smiled and immediately complied, wrapping his arms tightly around his own thin frame. It felt like he might break Michael in half, but he didn’t let go. “This is gonna be a good day, okay?” he said against Michael’s hair.

Michael nodded again, squeezing Jeremy back just as hard. His voice was muffled as he pressed his face against Jeremy's chest. “Okay.” He agreed. He squeezed him one more time before pulling back slightly, his arms still wrapped around him but enough to see Jeremy's- his own- face. “Kiss?”

Jeremy laughed. “Yeah,” he breathed. He used his finger to tilt Michael’s head up with ease. His lips met the other boy’s, the awkwardness of the situation almost completely gone by now, leaving behind only the affection and love Jeremy never allowed himself to realize.

Michael pulled back, breathless. He felt…. A lot. Maybe it was just the emotional toll of the past few days finally catching up to him, or maybe it was the fact that, after today, they would be back to normal and could finally be together properly. Michael got down on his knees, scooting in between Jeremy's thighs. He let out a shallow breath as he met his boyfriend's eyes. In that moment, Michael felt unbelievably vulnerable. “I love you, Jeremy. I don't think I’ve said that enough.” He moved ever so slightly closer. “I love you. More than I should.” He gave him a crooked grin and a shrug.

Jeremy watched Michael below him. He knew he meant what he said as a compliment—a huge one—but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Michael deserved someone better than him. “You-” he started, clearing his throat. “You shouldn’t love me at all.” It hurt to say. “I abandoned you. You shouldn’t have come back after I gave you a hundred reasons not to.” His voice cracked and his smile had disappeared completely. He needed Michael to hear this.

Michael's expression didn't change as he brought one of his hands up to rest on Jeremy's cheek softly. “Maybe not,” he whispered. “But I did. And I do. Love you. _A lot_.”

Jeremy felt a tear he hadn’t noticed form fall down his cheek. “Okay,” he croaked. “I-I love you, too, Micah. It’s just—It’s hard to understand why you took me back.”

Michael swooped in to press a kiss to his cheek, right where the tear had trailed down it. “I know, buddy.” He muttered, “But all that matters is that I _did_ , yeah?”

Jeremy smiled again. “Yeah,” he choked out. “Sorry, man. I just thought too hard about it.”

Michael shook his head. “No apologies.” He commanded, voice stern but still soft. He opened his mouth to say something else, but quickly closed it again. He didn't know what words he could use to properly express how he was feeling. He sighed, pressing his forehead to Jeremy's.

“Right,” Jeremy gulped, voice small. “Today’s a good day. We’re fixing this today. And tomorrow is Saturday!” He forced himself to be optimistic. At least it’s the weekend.

Michael pulled away finally, adopting his standard carefree expression. “You can get make out boners to your heart's content.” He teased lightly. All this emotional business was hard for Michael. It took a lot out of him to be so open. But he was willing to work through it, for Jeremy.

Jeremy rolled his eyes, already feeling better. “And you can get turned on by popsicles until you implode.”

Michael snorted, “I wonder if RIch actually fought Matthew.” He thought back to what Jeremy had told him yesterday. “I hope he did.”

“God, I hope he pummeled that guy,” Jeremy said wistfully.

“Fuck that guy.”

“You said that earlier,” Jeremy laughed. “ _Don’t_ fuck that guy.” He paused. “Do you want breakfast?”

Michael grinned. “Always.” Fuck, he was hungry as hell.

“I think we have waffles,” Jeremy said, standing up and stretching his tired body. “C’mon.” He clapped Michael on the back and made his way through the door.

Michael snickered to himself. That action had had an overwhelming aura of ‘No Homo’ radiating from it. He didn’t think Jeremy even realized. He followed after him, down to the kitchen. “Oh, Wait, Jeremy, what abo--”

Mr. Heere was seated at the kitchen counter, clad in a bathrobe and slippers as he browsed the newspaper. He glanced up as he heard the sound of footsteps. “Ah. Jeremy. And Michael.” He started awkwardly.

Fuck. “Dad!” Jeremy all but shrieked. “G-Good morning…!” He wished with all his heart that his father had thought yesterday was a dream.

Mr. Heere nodded robotically. “Um, I take it you and Michael are…?” He raised an eyebrow, not wanting to assume.

Jeremy squeaked. Now or never. “Y-Yeah,” he confirmed awkwardly. He felt his ears ringing. “Is...Is that okay?”

His dad nodded quickly, eyebrows raised. “Of course! Just, uh… be safe, yeah?” He cleared his throat as though he were a confident adult and not a sad blushing divorcee who tries too hard to relate to his son. He needed a hobby.

Jeremy gulped again. “Uh...Uh huh,” he managed. What the fuck else could he say to that?

“Good. Well, there’s waffles in the freezer. And I’ll just,” He stood up, shuffling off towards the hallway. “Leave you boys to it.”

“Th-Thanks,” Jeremy stammered, turning to Michael when his dad was finally gone. “Oh my _god_.”

Michael bit his bottom lip harshly, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “Well.” he choked out, “I guess now he knows.”

“This isn’t funny, Michael,” Jeremy groaned, opening the freezer violently. “I’m just glad he didn’t get angry. I didn’t know how the hell he’d react to his son dating another boy.” He slammed the freezer closed and tossed the box of Eggos on the counter.

Michael’s restrained laughter died down slightly. “Man, I know your dad, he wouldn’t have gotten angry. He loves you, dude. He just wants what’s best for you, y’know? Fatherly shit.” Michael took a seat at the counter, watching Jeremy as he moved around the kitchen.

“How would you know about fatherly shit?” Jeremy joked as he shoved some waffles into the microwave. He set the timer and sat up on the counter beside the spinning Eggos.

Michael scoffed. “Bitch. I watch movies. Just because I have two mothers doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about dads. I happen to think I would make a pretty good dad.”

“You really would,” Jeremy responded without hesitation. “Our twins are gonna love you to death, Mikey.”

Michael may as well have been made of putty, he melted at Jeremy’s words so fast. Jesus christ. If Jeremy could manage to make him feel like nothing but a big puddle of affection with just a sentence, Michael was in deep trouble. Even though he contemplated it a lot, he couldn't help but wonder yet again just _how_ he could love Jeremy as much as he did. “You’re gonna be a great dad, too.”

“Am I? Probably the lame dad who won’t let the kids eat at McDonalds or stay up fifteen minutes past their bedtimes to watch the ending of a movie.” Jeremy watched the waffles on their circular journey.

Michael hummed softly at the thought. “That's not lame. It's fatherly. And cute. Besides, how else are me and the kids supposed to survive. You gotta keep us in line.”

“Me?” Jeremy asked. “I can barely keep myself alive. I can’t even—Shit, that reminds me, I need my medicine.”

Michael watched Jeremy scurry around, looking for his pills. “For real, though. I think you would be a really good dad. You would be the one that they went to when they got hurt or felt bad. I think you would be… beautiful.”

Finally finding his pill counter, Jeremy poured the day’s pills into his palm. “Beautiful? Me?” He couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Michael was so precious, he hated that he was only just now letting himself see that.

Michael blushed lightly and shrugged. “Yeah. Beautiful. That's the only word I could think of to describe it.” He was never great with words, but he tried his best. “You would be a beautiful father.”

Jeremy raised his eyebrow as he poured himself a bit of milk to take his meds with. “Not sure how to top that,” he admitted. “You’d be the hot dad but that’s not appropriate.”

Michael smirked. “Wow, that's so domestic. I fucking love domestic shit. Domesticity is my kink now. _Dominate me,_ Jerm. Marry me and be my manly husband.”

Jeremy—luckily having already swallowed his pills—almost choked on the rest of the milk in his mouth. Fuck, Michael. Why did he have to say that? Of course, there was no way he or Jeremy could have known how Jeremy was going to react to that. Surely Michael hadn’t meant for this to happen; Jeremy suddenly right in front of Michael, his eyes staring into the other boy’s, his hands being held back from what they desperately wanted to do. “Excuse me?” Jeremy said, voice low, breath hot.

Michael's eyes widened in surprise. He gulped at Jeremy's sudden shift in mood. “Dom me?” He repeated in confusion. What was happening right now?

Jeremy was just as confused as Michael had to be. His hands were sweaty and his ears were rushing with the sound of his increased heartbeat. Nonetheless, he inched closer to Michael. “Say it again, I dare you,” he croaked.

Michael was breathing in quick pants, eyes becoming lidded. “ _Dominate me_.” He whispered hoarsely.

Jeremy hummed. He inched even closer, now standing between Michael’s thighs. He whispered lowly. “Tell me what you want.”

Michael gaped. Holy _fucking_ shit. Jeremiah Heere was almost kinkier than Michael had expected. Not only that, but he was acting very much like a real Dom and it was, upsettingly enough, _very hot._ Jeremy was so close to him, but still not actually touching him at all. It was maddening. Michael gulped, mouth dry. How was he supposed to respond to that without ruining the mood? Did he want to ruin the mood? He pushed the thoughts away, acting off of instinct. “I want-” his voice was nothing but a breathy whisper. “I want you to t-touch me.”

Jeremy looked him over. Some sort of noise escaped him, almost a growl, but not quite animalistic enough. Just enough on the Jeremy side of things to send chills to Michael’s spine. “That’s not very helpful,” he mewled, somehow impossibly confident. “Where, Micah?” He made sure to keep from touching him until he specified a place; keep him on his toes, right? Tease him?

Michael whined softly. “Anywhere.” He pleaded. “Please.” Fuck, Michael just wanted him to _touch_ him. The lack of contact was driving him insane.

Jeremy smirked and moved his arms up by his sides, so they were each next to one of Michael’s thighs. He painfully slowly lowered them onto Michael’s legs and equally slowly increased their pressures until they were lying limp on them. “Hm,” he hummed absently as he began moving his hands up closer to the other boy’s abdomen, dragging his fingers lightly across the fabric of his pants.

Michael's breath hitched as Jeremy's hands moved, frustratingly slow. He was so close, just a few more inches and—

“Boys, No sex in the Kitchen!”

Michael and Jeremy both froze instantly. They stared at each other in surprise and disbelief. What. The fuck. Had just happened. Michael couldn't take it. He burst out laughing, doubling over in his seat.

“O-Oh my fucking G-God!” He stammered out between laughs. “J-Jesus!” His eyes were watering slightly from his laughing.

Jeremy was about to cry. That was it. That was as much as he could take. “Wh- Stop laughing at me!” he pleaded, really not wanting Michael to notice the tears coming up in his eyes. He backed away from him completely.

Michael shook his head quickly, trying to get himself under control. “N-No, I'm not laughing at you, Jerm.” He reassured, stumbling to his feet. “I'm laughing at the fact that your dad just fucking cockblocked us by yelling down the hall.”

“D-Don’t say it so loudly, he doesn’t need to know he’s right!” Jeremy tried to calm down, but couldn’t. His eyes stung with embarrassment and betrayal.

Michael's laughter stopped completely when he noticed the tears in Jeremy's eyes. “Hey, hey! Jeremy, why are you upset? I'm sorry for laughing, please don't cry.” He stepped closer to Jeremy cautiously, reaching out a hand with the intent to comfort him.

Jeremy whipped around, ignoring Michael’s outstretched hand in the process, and opened the microwave to get the waffles out. And to hide his face behind the door. “I’m fine,” he lied.

Michael frowned, his chest suddenly aching. “You're lying.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

Jeremy slammed the microwave closed. “You can’t just act all turned on and then laugh at me like that, man,” he said pathetically. “Like at least twice now you’ve done that.”

Michael jumped at the sound the the microwave being slammed. Oh. “J-Jeremy, I—” he paused, thinking back. “I didn't- I wasn't laughing at you. I promise. I just…” he shifted uncomfortably, looking down at his feet. “We promised to wait, y’know? A-And I don't know how to, like… just stop that kinda thing. Not that I wanted to, I really was enjoying it. _A lot_. But, like…I don't know. I’m just not very good at this kind of stuff.” He looked back up at Jeremy. “But I would never laugh at you. I swear.”

Jeremy shrugged it off. It was in the past now. He shouldn’t cry about it. That was weak. So was his posture, come to think of it. He stood up straighter. “Fine,” he said, not allowing the tears to fall. “I’m fine. Want syrup on your waffles?”

Michael shifted, gripping onto the front of his shirt. His chest hurt. “Um, actually- I’m not really hungry anymore.” He mumbled. Jeremy still seemed off. Was he still upset? Did he not believe Michael? His appetite was taken instantly because of the anxiety curling in his stomach. No, this was too soon in their relationship for things to go wrong. _It was going to be a good day._ Just like Jeremy had promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i warned you, hoe


	33. (please do not fuck being upset)

Michael was determined to fix this. Jeremy was still acting strange- he must've still been upset. And honestly, _fuck_ being upset. Michael timidly edged closer to where he was stood, silently preparing his waffles. He inched up behind him, hovering his hands over the boys’ hips. He leaned forward to whisper to him quietly. “I'm sorry I made you feel bad, Jere.” He apologized, increasing the pressure of his hands slightly. “I really didn't mean to.” he moved his hands up and under Jeremy's shirt so that they ghosted at his bare waist.

“I love you.” He leaned his head down and kissed Jeremy's neck softly. “And I adore you.” He moved up Jeremy's neck, trailing more kisses in between his words. As he did this, his hands slipped around to Jeremy's front until Michael was wrapped around him from behind, his hands lightly running up his chest underneath his shirt. “And you turn me on _way more than you should_ with the weirdest things, but you still somehow manage to make it hot.” He lightly scratched at the skin under his fingers, not painfully but rather teasingly. He kissed Jeremy right at the base of his ear, with a tenderness that completely offset his previous words and the actions of his hands. “And I think you're cute, and beautiful, and amazing, and perfect.” He closed his eyes, resting his chin on Jeremy's shoulder as he moved his hands back to Jeremy’s sides once more, gently rubbing up and down the length of his waist soothingly. He really didn't want Jeremy feeling bad because of something he did.

Jeremy had frozen at the first ghost of Michael’s hands. His breath hitched as they traveled around his skin, and again as Michael peppered kisses on the sensitive areas of his neck. This was so domestic. It made Jeremy completely forget they had school, forget they weren’t alone in the house. It just felt like it was them two, on a lazy morning, sleepy and in love. He didn’t want this feeling to end. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning his head closer to Michael’s. “I just get paranoid.” He tried to resume making his waffles without bothering Michael. He was, to say the least, ashamed of himself. Even if Michael had called him...hot...he still felt guilty and awkward. They’d not even been together a week yet, and his stupid teenage body and its stupid desires almost ruined it for them. Even now, after the scare of Michael laughing at him, he couldn’t help but want more, caused by the way Michael’s hands had lingered just long enough to be teasing, the way his fingernails didn’t scratch just quite hard enough, the way his kisses just weren’t passionate enough. No matter. They’d be able to do whatever they wanted soon. Maybe even that night. And they had the weekend ahead of them. 

Michael smiled, pressing down slightly harder on Jeremy waist in acknowledgement. He rubbed his cheek against Jeremy's affectionately. ”This is sickeningly domestic.” He chuckled, not moving away. He liked it, the fact that they had gotten so much closer in such a short period of time. It made him wonder how much closer they could get in the future. Michael hadn't thought he could like Jeremy any more than he already had a couple days ago, but that had been quickly disproven.

Jeremy finally smiled again. He pushed his cheek gently back into Michael’s in mutuality. “We’re some newlywed couple who didn’t get enough affection on their honeymoon,” he joked. “But for now we have school.” His smile faded. “I need to get ready for myself this time. Are you sure you don’t want any food, Mikey? You’re always hungry.” He was worried. 

Michael was about to protest when his stomach growled angrily. He grimaced. “Wow, stomach, way to be a bitch.” He muttered to himself. How rude. “Guess I am hungry after all.” He reluctantly pulled away from Jeremy, placing one last lingering kiss on his cheek before retracting his hands from his shirt and stepping back. 

Jeremy turned around, back against the counter, and looked up at Michael. “You can have these, then,” he offered. “We’re gonna be late if I don’t go and get ready.” He licked his finger and reached up to fix a strand of Michael’s hair that he guessed he’d missed when he tried to gussy the other boy up. 

Michael scrunched up his nose. “Gross, Jeremy spit.” He teased lightly. “I'm only eating half of these, the rest are yours. Go get ready, you horny fuck.”

Jeremy scoffed as he walked away. “You put my fudge pop in your mouth last night, you sicko, shut up about spit.” He meant it as a joke, and was fairly certain Michael would get that. He didn’t even want to think about Michael’s last comment. 

Michael laughed loudly at Jeremy's comment. “Is that a euphemism?” He called after his retreating form, eyes trailing after him as he left.  
“You were there, you egg, you know what it means!” Jeremy called before disappearing up the stairs. 

Michael grinned dopily to himself. He felt very content.

\-------

As they pulled into the school parking lot and parked in their usual place, Michael sighed. “One more day.” He pondered. “Then everything will be back to normal.”

Jeremy glanced at Michael. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Just a few more hours.” He wouldn’t admit it, but the way Michael said ‘back to normal’ kind of scared him. Their normal was definitely not kissing or feeling each other up or even dating. What even was normal for them anymore? 

Michael pursed his lips in thought. “Wanna go find Rich and ask if he beat Matthew up?” He offered, smiling slightly.

“If we can separate him from Jake,” Jeremy replied. He opened his car door and stepped out. 

Michael followed suit, chuckling slightly. “I don't know if we can really say anything anymore, I mean, we aren't much better. You literally sat on my lap while I fed you waffles thirty minutes ago.” 

Jeremy’s face went red. “Shut up!” He had no answer to that. There was no excuse, he’d just wanted to do it. 

Michael smirked but kept his mouth shut as they made their way inside. What a wild fuckin’ week.

Jeremy scoffed at Michael’s smile and left him behind, walking faster toward the direction of their lockers. 

“Hey, you fuck, wait up!” He called, speeding up slightly. It wasn't long before they had arrived at Michael's locker, once again greeted by the expected scene. “Ugh.” Michael groaned.

Jake once again had Rich pinned to the lockers in a display of...whatever they were doing. Jeremy ignored it. “Hey, Rich,” he said, loudly. 

Rich hummed in acknowledgement, not bothering to break away from his boyfriend.

Michael rolled his eyes. What the fuck, Rich.

Jeremy cleared his throat and repeated himself. “ _Rich_.”

Rich grumbled but detached himself from the taller boy. “What's up, buttercup?”

Jeremy avoided Jake’s pouty expression and locked eyes with Rich. “Did you ever do anything to that kid yesterday?”

Rich grinned, puffing out his chest proudly. “Bersur? He isn't going to be harassing anyone else, anytime soon.” Rich gave them a thumbs up, showing off his bandaged knuckles. 

Michael snorted, holding up his own hand. “Twinsies.”

Jake looked at Michael’s hands. “Dude, what happened to you?”

Jeremy ignored Jake’s question. “You beat the guy up?” he squeaked to Rich. “For real?”

Rich shrugged him off. “Yeah, obviously, but,” Rich gestured to Michael's hands, ”what the _fuck_ did you do? Soft ole Mikey couldn't have possibly _gotten in a fight_?” 

Michael shrugged, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Well, y’know, gotta fend off all my suitors one way or another.”

Jake gasped dramatically. “You fought off a bunch of gay dudes?”

Michael sighed. “No, Jake. I was kidding.”

Rich pouted. “Don't tease him, he's simple.”

Jake scoffed. “Then what the fuck did happen to you?” He looked at Jeremy for an answer, but paused. “Dude, are you wearing makeup?”

Jeremy must have forgotten to reapply the concealer on his cheek. The bruise must have been showing through. “Uh…” He was at a loss for words. 

Jake spoke again anyway. “Did you guys get in a real actual fight?”

Rich's eyes were wide and he took a step back. “Michael, Fuck, did you _punch Jeremy_?” He looked worried, his usually joking demeanor lessened considerably.

Jeremy was taken aback. “No!”

Jake looked skeptical. “That’s what someone trying to hide some kind of abusive shit would say, Jer.”

Jeremy was angry. “It’s also what someone telling the truth would say!”

Michael cut in, “I didn't punch him! Who do you think I am, Jesus.” He sighed heavily, looking at the lockers behind Rich. “I punched the guy who hit Jeremy.”

Rich looked relieved, but only slightly.

Jeremy was frantic. “Duh!”

Jake looked intrigued. “Who would hit Jeremy? You could just blow a soft breath and he’d fall over anyway.”

Michael sighed again. “Some prick at 7/11. Don't worry, though. I fucked him up pretty good.” He smiled sheepishly.

Rich bounced in place. “Really? Holy Shit, Mikey! You got in a _fight_!” Rich shuffled closer, lightly punching Jeremy in the side. “You got yourself a good man!” 

Jeremy winced deeply and flinched away at the touch on his bruised side. “Th-Thanks.”

Jake laughed. “What’d the guy look like, anyway? Muscular?” He smiled at the thought of Michael beating a bodybuilder to a pulp. 

Michael shrugged. “I don't really remember very much, to be honest. Just kinda… happened. Anyway, can we stop talking about this now?”

Rich used Jake to prop himself up casually. “Well, do you have something _else_ you want to talk about?”

Michael paused, thinking. “Uh, we’re finally gonna be fixed this afternoon?” He tried.

Jeremy only nodded. 

Jake’s smile didn’t fade. “Great! Then you guys can make out any time!”

Michael grumbled. “Thanks. You know what? Why don't you guys get back to your… activities. Me and Jeremy are gonna go. Probably need to cover that bruise back up, anyway.”

“Is it really that visible?” Jeremy whined. His father could have seen it. That worried him. 

Jake didn’t bother waiting for anything to happen. Instead, he was already back to kissing his boyfriend like they hadn’t just talked about fighting people. 

Michael rolled his eyes, grabbing Jeremy's waist so that he could lead him to the bathroom. “It's fine, just showing through a little. Maybe from when you brushed your teeth or something.” 

Jeremy wouldn’t admit—actually, he might, in secret—how much he liked Michael’s arm around his waist as they walked. “Great,” he muttered replying to his boyfriend. “Do you still have that cover up stuff?”

Michael reached into his hoodie pockets, pulling out the bottle of concealer. “Yep,” he confirmed, giving him a soft smile. He pulled Jeremy into the bathroom, steering him into the large handicap stall and locking the door behind them. 

Jeremy squeaked. “C-Can’t I just do this in the mirror?” Being alone in a bathroom stall with his boyfriend was a little awkward. 

Michael smirked and shook his head. “No, because the last two times we did that people walked in on us, remember?” He stepped closer to Jeremy, popping open the bottle of concealer.

Jeremy pouted, but he knew Michael was right. “Fine.”

Michael carefully set about covering up anywhere the concealer may have faded off, sticking his tongue out slightly in concentration.  
Jeremy stood as still as he could with the unpredictable touches to his hurt cheek. “Are you done yet?”

Michael hummed, stopping to look over his work. Once he was pleased with the coverage he smiled, leaning down to press a quick peck right beside Jeremy's eye. (He would've kissed him on the cheek, but he didn't want to hurt him.) “All done!” 

Jeremy’s face became a familiar warm. “Great,” he said, voice cracking. He almost moved to open the door, but decided on kissing Michael’s cheek first. 

Michael smiled at the timid press of Jeremy's lips on his cheek. He was almost tempted to egg him on for more kisses, but they really didn't have time for that right now. And they were at school in a bathroom stall. So, instead, he just unlocked the door and pushed it open, linking his fingers with Jeremy's as they exited the stall.  
“Class starts soon.” He grumbled bitterly.

Jeremy sighed. “Yeah, disgusting.” He groaned, shaking his head. “We should skip again someday.”

Michael puffed out his cheeks. “Maybe next week we can go see a movie or something. Y’know… like a date. A delinquent date.” His cheeks flushed a light pink.

Jeremy looked up at him. “We’re gonna be badasses!”

Michael laughed softly, rolling his eyes. “Don't get too carried away, Jerm. Skipping classes to go on a gay movie date isn't _that_ badass, you dork.”

“Pfft, and smoking weed in your basement is?” Jeremy countered jokingly. 

Michael just stuck his tongue out at Jeremy childishly.

“Put that thing back in your mouth, you hooligan.”

Michael scoffed. He swooped forward, quickly licking Jeremy's neck. “I’ll do what I want with this thing.” He proclaimed.

A high pitched squeak escaped Jeremy as his face turned a deep shade of red. “D-Don’t do that in public!” Was it wrong of him to wonder what _else_ Michael wanted to do with his tongue? Yes, it was. 

Michael snickered. “Or what?” He stuck his tongue out again teasingly.

“Or I’ll die!” Jeremy complained. 

“You’ll die?” He laughed. What did that even mean. 

“Yes,” Jeremy said sternly. 

“Of what?”

A beat. “S-Sexiness?”

“Jeremy, what the fuck,” Michael snorted. “You’re, like, 80% boner. Calm down, dude, just wait a little bit longer.” 

“It’s not my _fault_ , man!” Jeremy whined, voice high. “‘S yours,” he added under his breath.

Michael gave Jeremy a quick hug before pulling back again. “I know. I'm in just as deep as you are, if not more so. But,” he paused, cupping Jeremy's face in his hands carefully. “Tonight we'll be free to do _whatever we want_ , yeah?” He moved one hand down to Jeremy's shirt collar, lightly pulling it to the side to reveal the dark hickey Michael had placed there the previous night. “I promised, remember?” He ghosted a finger over the mark, barely brushing Jeremy's skin.

For once, Jeremy was grateful for the morning bell. It made him jump, forcing him out of whatever trance Michael had trapped him in with his touch and smooth voice. He might have done something regretful. “C-Class time!” he squealed. 

Michael smiled at Jeremy's flustered tone, leaning in to kiss him on his uninjured cheek. “Have a good day, I’ll see you at lunch.”

Jeremy nodded, still a little affected by Michael’s actions. “Yeah, of course,” he agreed. Unless they switched back before then. Ugh, Jeremy would be glad when that was over.


	34. (Please Do Not Fuck Boners)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow i dont know!

Lunch came around and they hadn’t switched back yet. Jeremy met up with Michael in the hallway so they could walk together to the cafeteria. He was feeling a lot better than he had earlier. Michael seemed happier, too. Maybe Jeremy’s cleaning up had really helped him. At least he could see out of his glasses now. 

As the pair settled in their normal places at the lunch table, Michael groaned. Rich and Jake were in the middle of exposing him and Jeremy. Wonderful.

“-and we were kinda worried that Michael had punched Jeremy, because, y’know, it added up and everything–” Rich was rambling on, mid explanation. 

Jeremy tuned in. “Wait, what?” He looked at the others. “Why are you telling them that??” He was mad, honestly, because he didn’t want other people to know their business. 

Rich paused, giving Jeremy a goofy smile. “So that you don't have to.” He shrugged.  
Chloe raised an eyebrow and, in a mildly perturbed voice, asked, “So… Michael _did_ punch Jeremy?”

“ _No!_ ” Jeremy all but screamed, face red. Jake chuckled beside Rich. 

Christine waved her fork. “Just tell us what happened!”

Rich bounced excitedly. “Mike got in a fight to defend Jeremy's honor!” 

Michael rolled his eyes but didn't protest. “How do you have so much energy, damn, why do you bounce like that?”

Jake smiled warmly. “He vibrates when he’s excited.”

Jeremy buried his head in his hands. He couldn’t deal with this now. 

Jenna chimed in. “Wow, Michael, way to be a knight in shining armour.” 

Chloe snorted beside her, “Yeah, that would be pretty dreamy if the whole school didn't already know you've been gay for Jeremy since eighth grade.”

Jeremy peeked up from his hands. “The whole school?” he squeaked. 

Christine giggled. “Uh, duh,” she said around her bite. 

Michael blushed slightly, pouting. “Damn, no need to call me out like that.” 

Rich grinned smugly. “It's ok, Romeo. You got him in the end!” He gave him a proud thumbs up.

Jeremy felt like an idiot. The whole school had known for three years? And he’d only just found out days ago? Great. Wonderful. He didn’t say anything more. 

Jake put his arm around Rich’s neck casually. “Yeah, you got the guy, dude,” he added. Sometimes he just liked talking. 

Michael's pout didn't let up. “Yeah. And I didn't have to write 'yes’ on my backpack and 'homo’ on his to get him, either. Unlike some people.”

Jake scoffed. “Excuse me, but that was quality romance.”

Michael rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Whatever. At least we didn't say 'No Bromo’ everytime we did something gay.”

Rich grinned at him proudly. “Gotta clarify! It's vital in relationships.” 

Christine cleared her throat loudly. “Is anyone gonna explain _why_ Michael had to fight someone for Jeremy’s honor?”

Michael sighed. “Some douche in 7/11 hit him.” He stated simply, picking at the bland lunch food on his tray. What even was this? School food was gross.

Jeremy groaned, muffled by his hands. Through them, he said, “I blacked out and everything,” pitifully. 

Michael huffed. “He got a lot more than just a blackout. Hope I broke his damn nose.”  
Rich cooed at them. “That's so cute, you're, like, all protective and shit.”

Jake turned to his boyfriend. “Hey, I’m protective! Pay attention to me!”

Rich patted his boyfriend on the cheek. “I know you are, babe. Don't worry, I’ll give you all my attention when you come over to my place later.” 

Michael groaned. “Do you have to proposition each other at the lunch table? There are salads present.”

Christine waved her fork for emphasis, but Jake didn’t seem to care. Instead, he smirked. “Oh, yeah? Another all nighter?”

Rich nodded enthusiastically. “Is there any other way?” 

Chloe stood up from the table, placing a hand on Brooke's shoulder. “Great. Well, if you’ll excuse us, me and Brooke have somewhere to be. Sorry we can't stay for the rest of your boner talk.”

Jake shrugged. “M’kay, if you can’t handle it.”

Michael grimaced slightly. “I think it's more that they don't _want_ to handle it.” Michael fought off a blush as he suddenly remembered the… _plans_ he and Jeremy had made for that night.

Jeremy finally lifted his head. He sighed. “I really don’t want to handle it either.” Jake and Rich’s sex life was not something he needed to know every detail of. 

Rich pouted, but backed away from Jake slightly. “Fine, you spoil sports.” 

Michael quirked an eyebrow. “...Spoil sports? You sound like a dad.”

Rich smirked. “Just call me Daddy.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but Jeremy immediately put his reddening face back into his hands, groaning at the memory of that morning’s events. Why was he so weird? And so damn horny? He couldn’t be horny at lunch, surely. Right? Fuck. 

Michael's face also reddened slightly as he glanced over at Jeremy. Fuck. Michael didn't have a daddy kink like Jeremy apparently did, but he did appreciate the dominance that Jeremy had displayed along with it. He gulped. Maybe he would have to use that to his advantage tonight. Jesus, Jeremy's inhuman libido must be infecting him. Why was he thinking about this right now? God damn school. He wished he could just be at home right now. No one could point out you or your boyfriend's awkward teenage boners at home. Fuck boners. Michael's blush darkened as he realized what he had just thought. Damn it.

Jeremy kept his deep blush hidden behind his arms as Jake glanced between the two of them. “You guys okay?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

Christine sighed. “Obviously not. What did you do to them?”

Rich shrugged. “Nothing, They're probably just thinking about how great me and Jakey D would be in a foursome.” Rich winked at her. 

Jenna snorted. “You couldn't even— Nevermind.” They weren't worth the joke, it would just end in more sex talk. Jenna was more for listening, anyway.

Jake hummed. “I’m not enough for you, Richie? You need two more people?”

Christine contemplated whether or not she could rejoin her old lunch table from now on. 

“Jakey, trust me, you're _more than enough_ , babe. I would never _need_ other people. I would merely allow them to join.”

Michael just kind of felt sad at this point.

“Fine, I guess,” Jake mumbled. 

Jeremy was still sitting head down, silent.   
Michael sipped on his bottled water. Another standard lunch experience.

\----------------------

The rest of the day went by uneventfully, Michael and Jeremy teasing at each other softly throughout art class before splitting up once again for their respective classes. Michael had mentally noted Matthew’s absence in Chemistry. Rich wasn't kidding, he must've really fucked him up. Before they knew it the day was over and Michael was meeting up with Jeremy at his locker, chattering idly with Rich about something or other. Rich always walked with Michael to their lockers- once again a matter of his “only sad/tall people walk alone”- So they usually met up with both Jake and Jeremy there, but Jake had some club meeting today, apparently.

They definitely had not expected to find a tall broad looking man towering over Jeremy when they reached the lockers. Michael's blood rushed as he sped up, hurrying to see what the issue was. 

“—came to find the kid who picked a fight with my brother, but if _you're_ here then,—” 

“Hey, Who the hell are-" Michael froze as the man turned at his call, revealing an unpleasantly familiar bruised face. Michael instantly had his guard up, reaching over to grab Jeremy and shuffling him behind him protectively. “What the _fuck_?” He hissed, eyes narrowed. 

Rich stood to the side confusedly. “Um, Hello? What the hell is going on?” 

The man straightened as he sneered at Michael, ignoring Rich completely. “ _You_ ,” he drawled, “You're the one who knocked me out? Jesus, if some chubby kid is all it takes, I must need to work out more.” 

Michael grit his teeth. Great, not like he was self conscious about that or anything. Obviously not. “This is the fuck-face that I beat the shit out of.” He told Rich, not breaking eye contact. “What the _fuck_ are you doing at our school?” He spat, hand tightening around Jeremy's wrist unconsciously. 

Jeremy couldn’t breathe. This was way too much. He was terrified. Not a single thought could pass through his head coherently. He couldn’t make himself tell Michael not to provoke the guy. He couldn’t even move on his own. The death grip Michael had on his wrist didn’t help. He felt like a hostage. His pills didn’t help him against _this_. He could only stand and watch, hoping the tears whose ghosts he could feel in his eyes wouldn’t fall. 

The man scoffed, turning his nose up. “I was here for the kid who beat up my little brother, but now it looks like I might have two reasons to be here.”   
Rich tensed slightly, stepping forward. “Your brother? You brother doesn't happen to be an asshole that goes by the name Matthew Bersur, does he? Because if so, I'm the one you're looking for, buddy.”

The man's eyes snapped to Rich. “Ah, you must be Rich. I'm Jason. Jason Bersur. I'm here to return the favor for my brother.”

Rich crossed his arms defensively. “Oh? Little Matty can't stand up for himself?” The air between them was becoming progressively thicker with every word.

Michael scoffed to himself. What are the chances that the guy who had been harassing him for months happened to be the brother of the guy that Michael beat the shit out of?

Jeremy _really_ couldn’t breathe, now. Two fights, both because of him, coming back to haunt him where his boyfriend and friend could be hurt again. He hadn’t felt this trapped since the SQUIP had taken over his body. Then, his expression flattened and his posture straightened. He didn’t feel scared anymore. It was like the SQUIP had done something, but Jeremy knew it hadn’t. This had only started happening recently, and only when extreme emotions were fighting in Jeremy’s head; little things the SQUIPped Jeremy would do. It was sort of an automatic coping mechanism, Jeremy figured. A form of dissociation that made it past his medicine’s realm of expertise. He hadn’t figured out how to stop it, yet, however. He could only imagine how absent he must have looked. Uncaring, uninterested. He felt that way, too. He knew it was wrong. But now he was experiencing another kind of trapped. 

Michael didn't know what the fuck was going on. This was all way too sudden and weird. He just wanted to go home and be fixed and happy. “I’m not going to fight you again.” He stated simply, eyes fierce. “Fuck off.”

Rich's phone rang suddenly, cutting through the tense atmosphere. He debated whether or not to pick it up. It might be Jake, or his brother. He chose to ignore it. “Don't you have better things to do than picking fights with high schoolers? Like, a job or something?”

Jason glared at Rich. He opened his mouth to say something when footsteps were heard approaching from around the corner. “Damn it. I’ll find you two some other time. You better be ready when I do.” He swiftly turned and hurried down the hall.

Michael scoffed again. “Guess he's scared to get caught threatening kids in a high school. What an asshole.”

Jeremy was coming down from his panic. He pulled his wrist free from Michael’s grip and rubbed it. “Wh-What the fuck just happened?” He was for once grateful for his stuttering. It meant he was himself again. None of that dissociation shit. 

Michael relaxed slightly now that Jason was gone, turning to face Jeremy and Rich. “I have no clue. That was way too fuckin much.” He grimaced as he saw Jeremy rubbing his wrist. He hadn't meant to hurt him, he had actually forgotten he had been holding his wrist at all.

“He’s not really coming back, is he?” Jeremy said, also grateful for the returning emotions. 

Suddenly, a voice interrupted Michael before he could answer. “Rich?”

Rich, who had just gotten his phone out to check and see who had called, groaned. “Oh god.” He turned around, a pained expression on his face. “Hey Steven.”

Michael froze. Steven? As in, the guy he flirted with in Jeremy's body? The guy who _flirted back?_

Steven had a bright yellow visitor sticker on his jacket, unlike the 7/11 guy. He bounded toward Rich. “Dude, I called you, didn’t you see? What’s taking so long? I thought you got hurt or something.”

Jeremy stared at Rich’s brother. He didn’t expect to see him again so soon, or ever. This was the guy who’d thought he was attractive, great. The guy who’d technically given him his card. At least now he knew that he was a minor. 

Rich sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry, I was busy. I was just about to call you back.” He held his phone up. 

Michael gulped and didn't say anything, edging closer to Jeremy. 

Steven rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure,” he said. As his eyes circled back, he saw Jeremy and Michael. “Oh, god.” He sighed. “It’s you.”

Michael smiled anxiously. “It's us!” He replied.

Steven groaned. “You could have told me you were in _high school_.” He settled on looking at Jeremy; Michael only brought him memories of jealous glares. 

Jeremy squeaked. “Sorry?”

Michael shrugged. “Doesn't matter much if it wasn't serious, right?”

“Wasn’t serious?” Steven scoffed. “Yeah, okay. Maybe on your boyfriend’s side.” He sighed. “Still jealous?”

Michael smiled pitifully. “Gotta stay on top of things, right?” He was tired, he didn't want to deal with Rich's brother. He just wanted to go home. But he wasn't going to be rude. “Still using your dog to pick up twinks in the park?” Ok, he wasn't going to be _that_ rude.

“The dog is a bonus,” Steven mumbled. He dismissed Michael with a wave of his hand. Looking back at Jeremy, he smiled apologetically. “Sorry our love is illegal.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh,” was all he wanted to add to this conversation. To his dismay, Steven continued. 

“You’re still looking like a snack, though,” he said as he winked jokingly. 

Michael knew he was kidding, but still couldn't help the wave of jealousy. “Yeah,” he started, grabbing Jeremy by the waist. “ _My_ snack.” 

Rich was watching this encounter take place silently, smirking to himself.

Steven raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, understandable.”

Jeremy felt much calmer with Michael’s arm around him. It was warm and familiar. He felt so comfortable, actually, that he stuck his tongue out at Steven. 

Michael bit back the dumb smile at Jeremy's childish action. “Uh, actually, if there's nothing you guys need from us, we should really get going.”

Steven shrugged. “I’m only here to pick Rich up.”  
Jeremy looked at Rich. “Bye, then?”

Rich nodded in affirmation, shoving his phone into his pocket. “You two have fun tonight, yeah?” He winked suggestively.

Michael blushed but rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He mumbled, lightly tugging on Jeremy's waist. “Let's go.”

Jeremy waved at Rich, avoiding Steven’s smile, and let Michael lead him out. “Can you track that package?” 

Michael yawned tiredly, pulling out his phone with his free hand. “Probably,” he started to unlock it before pausing. “Wait, no, I don't know where the SQUIP ordered it from.”

“Great,” Jeremy muttered, “probably some weird shady market that stole your identity.”

Michael just shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe. But at least we'll be fixed.” He rubbed Jeremy's side soothingly.

Jeremy was glad it wasn’t his injured side Michael was putting pressure on. “Yeah,” he said. “What do you think expired pineapple Mountain Dew even tastes like?”

Michael grumbled to himself. “Sadness, probably.” He released Jeremy's side as they reached the front entrance of the school. Michael moved to push the door open, holding it for Jeremy. “But, hey, you know what they say about pineapples.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

Jeremy scoffed and walked out. “I’m pretty sure that’s a myth, you perv.”

Michael laughed as he followed him, “Well, we can always find out.”

Jeremy gulped. He knew Michael had promised...something...for later, but he didn’t really expect it to actually...happen. He was in for it, wasn’t he? “Let’s just hope the Dew works, okay?”

Michael was silent in thought for a moment before he was suddenly giggling childishly. “Could you imagine if I was sucking your dick and then all of a sudden we switched, then you would literally be sucking you own dick.” 

Jeremy groaned. “ _No thanks_ ,” he said firmly. He really tried not to imagine it, and he didn’t, because he had a realization. “D-Does that mean you’re gonna— you’re— tonight—”

Michael smiled at how flustered Jeremy was. He couldn't help the soft blush that spread across his cheeks as he shrugged. “Probably, and probably other stuff too. I promised. I keep my promises.” He paused, smirking. “My moms have date night on Fridays. They never come home till, like, 3 am.”

Jeremy couldn’t let himself get worked up yet. He tried to keep his breathing normal. “Great,” he said, voice high. Should he say something else? “P-Plenty of time.” Shit, he should have stayed quiet. 

Michael rolled his eyes fondly, ruffling Jeremy's hair. “Don't freak out yet, Miah, it's still just me. I won't do anything you don't want me to.”

“R-Right,” Jeremy mumbled. The nickname caused him to blush a little deeper. “For now, uh, let’s just focus on the drink.”

Michael smiled as they reached his car. “Whatever you say, my favowite pewson.”

Jeremy couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t say anything, instead giving Michael a look that meant ‘dork’. He threw his car door open and got in quickly. As he reached for the handle to close the door, he heard a voice. It sounded familiar, yet he couldn’t quite tell who it was. The next time it rang out, he could understand what it said. 

“ _Jason_?”


	35. (please do not fuck me)

Michael instantly froze at the voice. Goddamnit. They just couldn’t get away from this guy, could they? He spun around in the direction the call came from, only to see Rich’s brother storming towards the 7/11 guy. What the hell? They knew each other?

Jeremy poked his head out to watch. 

Steven stomped in the direction of the taller man. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice firm. Rich was nowhere to be seen. 

Jason crossed his arms defensively. “Some punk kid beat up my little brother, what are _you_ doing here?”

“Picking up _my_ little brother,” Steven replied coolly. He mimicked Jason’s arm crossing. 

“Well, then you should probably get to doing that then, shouldn’t you?”

“He’s in the car,” Steven said. “I thought I saw you so I walked over, and here you are.”

Jason shrugged. “Here I am. I haven’t seen you since that night a couple weeks ago.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “If you’d bother to show up for class, you would have.”

Jason huffed, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve been... busy. You haven’t called.”

“You haven’t answered.” Steven looked angry. 

Jason scoffed and opened his mouth to say something when another voice rang out across the parking lot. “Yo, Stevie, What’s taking so long?”

Jason instantly tensed. “Oh my God. _That’s_ your brother?”

Steven whipped around and called back, “Stay in the car, Rich!” before turning right back to face Jason. “What do you mean? Of course that’s my brother.”

Michael looked at Jeremy where he was seated in the car, a bewildered expression on his face. “What the fuck?” he whispered, glancing back at the scene unfolding before them. 

Jason’s hands clenched at his sides. “He’s the asshole who pounded on my brother!”

“What the— No, Rich doesn’t fight people anymore. He changed.” Steven’s fists tightened. “You came here to beat up my brother because you think he pummeled yours?”

Jeremy didn’t respond to Michael, instead just staring at the two men in shock and fear. 

Jason stepped closer, eyes fierce. “I _know_ he did it! He told me he did!” 

Steven shook his head. “You’re lying. He doesn’t do that shit anymore.”

Jason was breathing heavily. “Are you calling me a liar?”

Steven shrugged. “You’ve lied before.”

“Oh fuck you, Steven!” he shouted angrily.

“Huh, I remember you screaming that a little differently a couple weeks ago.” Steven tried to stay calm, but a vein was throbbing in anger on his forehead. 

Michael’s eyes were wide as he turned back to Jeremy again. “Should we do something about this?”

Jason looked like he was ready to throw down any second.

Jeremy looked at Michael with fear in his eyes. “What _can_ we do?” 

Steven had taken a step closer to Jason in the meantime. 

Michael felt panicked. “I don’t know, something! We can’t just watch this happen, can we?” It felt like they were watching a car crash and doing nothing to help.

“Hey, what the fuck is going on?” Rich had disregarded his brother’s warning and was now standing a couple feet away from the angered pair.

Jeremy watched. “Wait. Let’s see what Rich is doing. Maybe they won’t do anything with him there.”

Steven immediately put his arm in front of his brother. “I told you to stay in the car, Richard.” He didn’t take his eyes off of Jason.

Rich ignored him. “Do you know this guy?” he asked, shoving Steven’s arm away. He grimaced as his lisp shone through slightly on the s in ‘this’. He didn’t need his brother to protect him, he could defend himself just fine.

Jason gritted his teeth, practically growling. “Get out of here, kid. I already said I’d deal with you some other time.”

Steven blinked. “You said you’ll _what_?” His voice was low and threatening, nothing like he’d sounded in the park. 

Rich hummed bitterly. “He wants to fight me because I beat up his asshole brother for harassing my friend. The _same_ friend who gave him all those bruises on his face because he apparently _punched his boyfriend_ in a 7/11.”

This sure was a complicated tale. Steven took a small step back to comprehend it. “You’re telling me,” he started through gritted teeth, “Jason punched one of those guys from the park, the other one beat him up, then you beat up his brother, and he came to beat up you?” He looked at Jason. “What the fuck are you doing punching kids in gas stations?”

Jason froze. Uh oh. Caught. “That’s none of your business. Besides, I didn’t even mean to hit him, he just got in the way. Then that psycho kid showed up.”

“Got in the way? Of what? Who were you trying to hit?” Steven had his arm back in front of Rich. 

Jeremy looked up toward Michael again. “I think they’re talking about us.”

Jason huffed, turning away. “I don’t have to tell you anything. If you want to sort this out, find me some other time. I’m going home.” He spat bitterly, not looking back at Rich and Steven.

“Wimp,” Steven muttered, his arm lowering. “Don’t fuck with that guy, Rich. Did you really beat his brother up?”

Rich scoffed. “His brother has been harassing my friend for months. And yesterday he went too far. I warned him, and he didn’t listen. So yeah, I did.”

Steven sighed. “We’re going home.” He didn’t question Rich any further. Walking back in the direction he’d come from, he grabbed Rich’s arm to pull him along. 

Michael sighed, finally sliding into the driver’s seat. “Jesus christ.” He muttered. “What the fuck?”

Jeremy quickly shut his door. “What just happened?” He thought for sure there was going to be a huge fight. He’d even contemplated calling 911. 

Michael blinked, putting his keys into the ignition. “I feel like we just witnessed a fucking murder.”

“I thought that guy was gonna pull out a gun or something!” Jeremy shakily buckled his seatbelt. 

Michael felt his heart rate increase. “Fuck, I hadn't even considered that, Jesus, what if he did?” Michael would've probably had a heart attack, honestly. He didn't know what to do in a normal fight, let alone when actual weapons were involved.

“C-can we just go? Please?” Jeremy didn’t want to look through the window again. 

Michael nodded, grabbing Jeremy's hand tightly. “Yeah. You good?” He was worried, Jeremy seemed really upset after that scene.

Jeremy couldn’t lie. “No,” he admitted. The conflict had really scared him, but what had especially terrified him was his own response to seeing that Jason guy again by their lockers. He’d completely blanked, and that was definitely not good. 

Michael frowned, rubbing Jeremy's thumb with his own as he pulled out of the school parking lot. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“Do I have to?” Jeremy was afraid of what Michael would think of him if he told him the truth. He had promised it would be a good day, anyway. 

Michael glanced at him briefly. “No, but it might help. I don't want you to be upset. You know why?”

“W-Why?” Jeremy stammered.

“Because I love you.” He brought their hands up, kissing the back of Jeremy's lightly. He had been saying it a lot lately, but he couldn't help it. He really wanted Jeremy to know. He planned to say it any chance he got.

Jeremy smiled a little. “You too, dork.” He still didn’t want to talk about anything too emotionally draining. Not until everything was smooth and fixed for them. He only wished the delivery truck had beaten them to Michael’s house. He didn’t want to wait any longer. 

Michael grinned, opening his mouth to respond. But before he could get anything out, an all too familiar nausea began creeping up on him. His eyes widened. “Oh god, no, Not now!”

Jeremy clutched his head. “Wait–” The word was finished in a different voice. He looked up, finding himself in the driver’s seat, behind the wheel, foot on the pedal. “Oh my god.”

Michael gasped beside him, arms flapping uselessly at his sides. “P-Pull over!” He cried anxiously. Jeremy didn't know how to drive, this was dangerous!

Jeremy’s eyes were wide as his hands vacillated between gripping the wheel tightly and flailing like mad. “H-How?! Which- Which one’s the brake?! What am I doing?!”

Michael reached across the car, grabbing the wheel to keep it steady. “The one on the right! But do it softly!” They didn't need whiplash on top of all their other problems right now.

Jeremy tried to do as Michael said, pushing his foot on the right pedal slowly, but it was still a little too hard. “Is there a cop around here?!” He hoped to God there wasn’t. They must look like drunk drivers at the moment. 

Michael yelped. “I sure fucking hope not!” What should he do? Should he just kiss him now to get them back quickly? Would that be safer than Jeremy trying to drive? Oh god, what was he supposed to _do_?.

They must not have done it right, because several horns honked at them from behind. Jeremy squeaked. “We need to go, they’re getting mad!” He started to put his foot back on the accelerator. 

Michael panicked. “Fuck!” He leaned his torso across the console, trying to kiss Jeremy quickly without killing them. “Fucking- Kiss!” 

Jeremy couldn’t hear Michael over his own screaming. He leaned away from him so he could see the road ahead. “Just let me get to the red light up there!” he yelled, voice cracking. 

Michael sat back down obediently. “Please, just be careful!” Michael felt so anxious he thought he might be sick. Fuck. Now was not the time to have a panic attack. It definitely would not improve their current situation. He ignored the tight feeling in his chest.

Jeremy underestimated the distance to the red light. It was a lot further than he’d anticipated, and there were several curves and lane switches. “I’ve played Grand Theft Auto, that’s- that’s enough, right?!” He tried to shift lanes, almost cutting someone off. “Oh my god.”

Michael crushed his eyes closed in fear, trying to keep himself calm. He could feel his breathing becoming more distressed. “Oh God, Jeremy. Please.”

Jeremy miraculously made it to the last stretch of road before the light without any major problems other than screaming the whole time. “If we die, I love you,” he added into his screams. 

“Jeremy! Jesus, don't _say_ that shit! Fuck!” This was not helping. 

Jeremy screamed an apology as he finally neared the red light, throwing his foot—yet softly—on the brake pedal. He was stopped about three cars’ length behind the line he was supposed to be at. He still considered this a success. “Michael!”

Michael practically launched across the car, grabbing Jeremy and slamming their lips together harshly. 

The sound of more honks made Jeremy jump back, now into the passenger seat, where he belonged. His heart was racing and he felt sweaty. “Oh my _fucking god_.”

Michael immediately grabbed the wheel, pulling up to the light properly. “Fuck me!” He yelped, distress fading slightly. “Jesus, There couldn't have been a _worse_ possible time!” The light turned green, and Michael resumed the drive as normally as he could. “Fuck, we’re, like, five minutes away!”

Jeremy gulped, catching the breath Michael had lost for him. “I- Shit, dude, I’m sorry–” They could have gotten seriously hurt because of him. 

Michael shook his head, heart finally calming. “It's not your fault. It's the stupid Mountain Dew, remember? My fault, if anything. God, I’m gonna be glad when that stops happening.”

Jeremy nodded. “Y-Yeah, just a matter of time, now.” He still felt guilty. Even if Michael blamed himself on all of this, it was still Jeremy who’d gotten that SQUIP in the first place. That’s what really caused it all. 

Four minutes later they were pulling into Michael's driveway. Michael put the car in park, throwing off his seat belt and collapsing limply in his seat. “Fuck me, dude. That was, like, a lot.”

Still reeling from the emotions of the past hour, Jeremy didn’t think about what he was saying. “Later, dude,” he offered. “Is there a package?” He threw his arm over and unbuckled his own seatbelt. 

Michael blushed but ignored it, instead perking up in his seat to peer out of the window and towards the front door. His heart sped up excitedly. “Yes!” He cried, scrambling out of the car. It was there! Finally! This could all be _over_.


	36. (You And Your Boyfriend Can Fuck If You Guys Want)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was legit too much for us. It’s 99% fanservice. I cried the whole time. Here’s the sitch: there are heavily implied sexytimes in this chapter. They don’t get naked, but there’s a lot of just...godawful stuff. If you don’t want to read it, there will be stars (*******) before it. You can end the chapter there. I’ll summarize it in the end notes. I wish I could have skipped it too.

Jeremy scrambled after Michael, almost tripping on his way to the porch. He could momentarily push his other emotions to the side to make room for his excitement. Sure enough, a box was by the door. “Michael! This is it!”

Michael grinned, grabbing the box off of the ground. It was addressed to him. “Yes!” He beamed at Jeremy, unlocking the front door quickly and throwing it open. 

Jeremy bounced as he followed Michael inside. “Open it!” he squealed. 

Michael made his way into the kitchen, dropping the package on the counter and grabbing a pair of scissors out of the drawer. He started cutting open the box, smiling slightly at Jeremy's excitement. 

Jeremy couldn’t contain himself. “Are they in there?” He craned his head around Michael’s shoulder to watch. 

Michael dropped the scissors, reaching into the box and pulling out two bubble wrapped plastic bottles. “Yep! And there's a third one, guess they really gave us our money's worth.” He grinned, dropping one of the bottles back into the box. “Jeremy, do you know what this _means_?!”

“We’re fixed!” Jeremy yelled. He grabbed the bottle from Michael’s hands and examined it. Upon his eventual satisfaction, he passed it back. “Open it!”

He did as instructed, gulping slightly. He sniffed it. “Smells unpleasant.” He informs, eyeing the yellow liquid. “How flat do you think this is gonna be?”

Jeremy’s grin faltered. “Oh, god, flatter than the earth.”

Michael laughed loudly. “Eat your heart out, Flat Earth Society.” He took a deep breath. “You go first.” He held to bottle out to Jeremy.

Jeremy took the bottle back with both hands. “No time to waste, yeah?” He smelled it. “Ew.”

Michael chuckled and nodded, urging him on.

Jeremy shook the smell from his nose and brought the bottle to his lips. “Here goes nothing.” He took a deep breath and sighed loudly before pouring some of the soda into his mouth. 

Michael watched with bated breath. “Well?” This situation felt uncomfortably familiar.

“Tastes disgusting, man,” Jeremy said, a grimace on his face. “I don’t feel any different. Maybe you gotta drink it before it’ll work.”

Michael nodded, taking the bottle from Jeremy's hand. “Can't taste worse than alcohol.” He took a big swig, wincing at the unpleasant flavor. “No wonder this didn’t get mass produced.” He sighed, screwing the lid back on and gingerly placing it on the counter. He looked up at Jeremy hesitantly. “Do you.. think it worked? I mean, we don't feel any different, but it's not like we felt any different after drinking that grape shit, either.”

“Right,” Jeremy muttered. “This might help figure it out, though.” He stepped closer to Michael, putting his arm around the taller boy’s waist, his other hand resting on his cheek. He felt himself smile just a smidge before he gently pressed his lips onto Michael’s, the taste of the soda coming through. 

Michael pressed back into the kiss before pulling back with a sigh. He slowly cracked his eyes open to see… Jeremy. “I- It worked! Jeremy! We're fixed!” Michael threw his arms around Jeremy's neck, excitedly crashing their lips together once more. In his excitement, he may have leaned into Jeremy a bit too hard, causing the pair to stumble backwards, lips still connected, until Jeremy’s back bumped into the fridge.

Jeremy’s arm fell from Michael’s face and reached behind him in instinct, hitting the door to the fridge. Once he felt safe against the machine, he put his hand back where it had been on Michael’s cheek, not wanting to ruin the moment with awkwardness. Then, he got an idea. He shifted his hands both to Michael’s waist and pushed his back off the fridge, turning so Michael was the one against it. 

Michael gasped slightly at the sudden role reversal, his cheeks heating up as his back hit the fridge door roughly. He angled his head the other direction to get better access to his boyfriend's lips, shifting his hands down and around to grip onto the back of Jeremy's shirt.

Jeremy pulled just far enough away to speak. “Finally,” he whispered, his breath hot against Michael’s face.  
Michael's heart hammered against his ribcage. He pressed another searing kiss on Jeremy's lips before pulling away breathlessly. He dropped his head down to rest on Jeremy's shoulder as he squeezed him tightly. “ _Finally._ ” he breathed in agreement, voice rough. Oh god, were those tears? Why was he crying, this wasn't supposed to be a time for tears. They were supposed to be happy and making out, not crying.

“Micah, are you okay?” Jeremy’s voice was soft, caring, concerned. He looked up at him with worry in his eyes. He hoped those tears were happy tears. 

Michael let out a shuddering breath, nodding into Jeremy's shoulder. “It's just— I’m so- I’m so damn _relieved_. I mean, fuck, dude. This is the first time we've been able to kiss normally.”

Jeremy laughed a little. “It’s good, isn’t it?” His hand had absently taken to running through Michael’s soft dark hair. 

Michael huffed out a soft laugh, sniffling slight. “Yeah, it is. It's _really_ good.” He paused for a minute, just breathing in _Jeremy_. “I love you.” He muttered, voice shaky but clear. “I love you so, _so_ much, Miah.”

“I love you, too, Mikey,” Jeremy breathed. “Sorry it took me so long.”

Michael just squeezed Jeremy tighter in response, nuzzling his collar bone. He pulled back finally, wiping at his eyes. “Let's get out of the kitchen, yeah? I want to take my shoes off.”

Jeremy grinned. “Lead the way, then.” Although he was extremely happy—elated—and excited—enthused—he couldn’t shake the feeling left over from being so damn scared for about a whole hour. It ghosted the back of his mind. He didn’t think he could commit until it was gone. 

Michael grabbed Jeremy's hand, pulling him in the direction of his bedroom. He couldn't help but blush slightly as he did. Now that this was all real- like, _really_ real- Michael was starting to feel kind of nervous. But not nervous enough to stop. He pushed open the door leading to the basement but then paused, biting his lip. “Uh, you go ahead and go down. I need to go… get something real quick.” He pecked Jeremy on the cheek before hurrying off down the hall.

Jeremy stammered as Michael disappeared. What could he possibly need? He tried not to worry about it too much as he went down the familiar stairs, finally starting to feel more comfortable with the nostalgic surroundings. 

Michael shuffled into his mothers’ bedroom, face burning. God damn it. This was so embarrassing. He hated that he was so damn awkward. He located the plastic bag that he was looking for, grabbing it without dwelling on the contents for too long. He scampered back down the hallways, making his way down the stairs and into his room. He tossed the bag down onto the floor at the head of his bed before turning back to face Jeremy, smiling timidly. “I'm back.” He muttered, pretending like nothing happened. 

Jeremy watched the bag settle slowly, but he couldn’t tell what was inside. He tried to smile, but didn’t say anything. 

As Michael sat down on the bed, he noticed Jeremy's mildly perturbed expression. His eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What's wrong, Jere?” He kicked off his shoes idly as he spoke.

“N-Nothing,” Jeremy replied, picking at his fingernails. Damn. Michael knew him too well. He wasn’t going to quit hounding him until he gave a real answer. They were supposed to be happy, after all. 

Michael pouted, scooting back on his bed until his back was against the wall and holding open his arms in invitation. “Come cuddle and we can talk about it.” 

Jeremy reluctantly climbed onto the bed and right into Michael’s open arms. It was an action he thought he’d seen before, in a dream or something, and it alone helped ward off some of his fear. He didn’t know how to start, so he waited for Michael to ask more questions. 

Michael wrapped his arms around Jeremy, allowing him to rest his head on his chest. “Is it because of earlier?” 

Michael’s warmth was easy to get lost in. Jeremy all but melted into him. He hesitated before just nodding as a response. 

Michael idly rubbed up and down Jeremy's arm comfortingly. “Because of that fight we saw?” He spoke softly.

Jeremy stared at a spot on the floor. “K-Kinda.”

“Kinda? What do you mean?” Michael wasn't sure what was going on, or why Jeremy was upset, but he was going to try his best to help him.

Jeremy chewed on his lip a little. “W-Well, when we saw that guy i-inside with Rich, I think I...I dunno, nevermind.” He didn’t want to bother Michael with words he might not understand. Not that he was underestimating him, but a lot of people just didn’t get it when Jeremy tried to explain things to them. 

Michael frowned slightly. “No, go on, I'm listening. What happened?” He coaxed gently, squeezing Jeremy's shoulder slightly.

Jeremy’s voice lowered. “I kind of blanked out.” He tried to just avoid scientific lingo. “B-But not in a normal way. Not that it’s normal, b-but it happens sometimes. It’s uh, an anxiety t-thing.” He felt vulnerable, embarrassed. 

Michael's eyebrows furrowed slightly despite Jeremy not being able to see him. “Like, disassociation or whatever?” Michael new the term and vaguely what it meant, but he was pretty sure he’d never actually experienced it before, so he didn't know quite what it entailed.

Jeremy was surprised. “Y-Yeah, actually, that’s exactly...yeah. Uh, but this was different.” He knew it probably wasn’t true, but he wanted to believe Michael knew the term because he had researched things to help Jeremy. How selfish was that? 

“How so?” Michael asked quietly. The atmosphere surrounding the boys felt… calm. Like they were in a weird comfort bubble where talking loudly would make things weird.

Jeremy sank further into Michael’s chest, as if it could protect him from judgement. “It- it was like the S-SQUIP was still active.” He didn’t quite know how to explain it. 

Michael's breath stuttered in his chest and he tensed slightly, pausing his menstruations. “It's not, is it? Because, if it is, I have more red, I can get you some. Are you okay? Did it say anything to you?” Michael was starting to ramble worriedly.

Jeremy shook his head. “It’s not really on, I-I know it isn’t. But it was like...I dunno, like I just kind of reverted back to that godawful uncaring v-version of me. I dunno, it’s stupid.” He usually ended his confessions that way. When he’d told Michael his mom had left, when he’d told him his dad wasn’t doing well, when he’d told him he really liked Christine. 

Michael leaned down to kiss Jeremy's forehead lightly. “'s not stupid, Miah. It's upsetting you, and that's important.” He paused, chest twisting. How could he help him with something that he didn't know how to fix? “Does it happen often? If it's been bugging you this much, it must not be the first time something like this has happened, huh?”

“N-No,” Jeremy admitted. “I-It only happens when there’s a lot going on. A-And only some of those times.” He felt like shit for ruining their big plans for that afternoon. They’d been waiting for so long, and now Jeremy was on the verge of tears because he couldn’t handle seeing the guy who punched him. 

Michael shifted to run his hands through Jeremy's hair soothingly. “Does it last long?” He wasn't sure what to do, so he was mainly acting off of instinct.

“I-It’s hard to tell,” Jeremy said, feeling better with each stroke of Michael's hands. “It feels like forever and also like no time has passed.”

Michael hummed thoughtfully. “Is there any way to help it or do you just have to wait it out?”

“Honestly,” Jeremy breathed, “I think you help. Just you b-being there.” 

Michael's heart melted slightly at Jeremy's words. He stilled his hand in Jeremy's hair, using his other to tilt his chin up so that Michael could place a sweet kiss on his lips. “That's good. I'm glad I can give you… something.” Michael smiled down at him crookedly, unsure. He was sure Jeremy could probably hear how fast his heart was beating just from his words.

Jeremy smiled when the kiss didn’t result in insane body switching. “You can give me anything,” he said softly, knowing it probably didn’t make sense. He closed his eyes to listen to Michael’s heart beat. It was fast, just because of him. He hoped it wouldn’t be the last time Michael’s heart beat for Jeremy. 

Michael took a deep breath, euphoria spreading though his body. He pressed a lazy kiss to Jeremy's lips, gaze heavy. “Are you feeling any better?” He began peppering more kisses around Jeremy's face— just pecks, but he lingered long enough with each one that the effect made him feel drunk with soft affection. He felt like they were a married couple that had just woken up and had no responsibilities but each other.

Jeremy actually giggled, his eyes still closed. “Yeah, actually,” he said. “Thanks to you, Micah.” He wanted this forever. Finally he felt happy enough to match the situation. If only he could have this—if they could have this—every day. That would mean heaven was a place on earth. Well, maybe not a place, Jeremy thought. A person. Heaven was Michael Mell. 

“Good.” Michael smiled, pulling back. He shifted Jeremy off of him carefully, standing up. “I'm gonna go have a quick shower, we were doing some weird shit in P.E. today. Honestly, I don't know how you laid on me for so long, I probably smell awful.”

“You smell like love!” Jeremy didn’t know what that meant, but he said it. “At least you didn’t have the Pacer Test, man.” A shiver of recollection went through his body, as well as a shiver of cold due to the lack of Michael’s body heat. He pouted. “You’re really leaving me?”

Michael laughed, leaning down to give him a soft, lingering kiss before pulling away, teasingly slow. “I’ll be out in ten minutes, tops. Promise.”

“What am I supposed to do without you?” Jeremy had a grip on Michael’s sleeve, holding him there. 

Michael smirked, kissing him again. “Think about what you want to do when I come back.”

Jeremy squeaked. Watching Michael go, he wondered. Were they really doing this? Was this their incentive for finally getting themselves fixed? And what the hell was in that bag? He could take a peek, but he didn’t want to ruin any surprises Michael might have. Maybe it was just a new game they could play. He felt excited and nervous and a little exhausted from spilling his guts not two minutes ago. 

Michael emerged from the bathroom roughly eleven minutes later- hair damp and clad in a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. He tossed his dirty clothes into his hamper before turning to cast a goofy grin at Jeremy. “See, told you I’d be fast.” Truthfully, Michael would have been out in half the time but he had spent five minutes starting at his body in the mirror, hyperfocused on every flaw. Every stretch mark, every extra pound, every imperfection— they taunted him horribly. He hadn't really been worried about it too much, but then Jason had pointed out how chubby he was.

Michael didn't move to make his way over to the bed, instead standing by his dresser, biting his lip thoughtfully. What would Jeremy think? Sure, he’d seen him topless before, but this felt… different. It felt more vulnerable. He bit at his nails idly, not even noticing as he chewed at his cuticles, worrying silently to himself, deep in thought.

Jeremy pouted. “You said _ten_ minutes. It’s been eleven. You lied to me. Liar.” He didn’t know how to act. Should he play it normal? Should he try to be seductive? That would be awkward, since he was Jeremy and that automatically meant he wouldn’t do it right. He was stalling, waiting for Michael to do something. The fear of the day’s events had virtually dissipated, instead giving in to exponentially growing fear of judgement from Michael. Would he be turned off by how pale he was? The acne? He’d tried getting rid of that shit so many times. Nothing worked. Michael was beautiful and he was a mess. 

Michael laughed softly. “Oh? Well then, I apologise,” he bowed dramatically. “Why don't you come over here so I can make it up to you, my Sweet Prince.” He smiled, pleased that they could still maintain their usual banter, even at a time like this. 

Jeremy’s face flushed, but he kept up his pout. “I don’t wanna get up.” He sat back on the bed, sinking back into Michael’s pillow. He tried to make himself look as comfortable as he could. 

********  
Michael rolled his eyes, making his way over to the bed. “Such a needy boy.” He teased, smirking. He leaned down, dropping an arm next to Jeremy's head to prop himself up as he hovered above him— close, but not touching.

Jeremy scoffed. “Shut up,” he mumbled. His face felt hot. He knew if he had his arms up, his hands would be shaking madly. He did put his arm up, hand indeed shaking, and grabbed Michael’s collar. “Get down here.”

Michael smirked, inching closer painstakingly slow until he was only centimeters away. “You come up here.” his voice was low and breathy.

Jeremy didn’t think about it. Immediately, he leaned up to crash his lips into Michael’s. He wouldn’t ever get used to the euphoric feeling of kissing Michael. Nothing could compare. He hated that he had avoided this for so long. But for now, he couldn’t dwell on that. For now, he could only revel in the moment. 

Michael worked their lips together with a desperate fervor, shifting to climb onto the bed without breaking the kiss. He threw a leg over Jeremy's waist, settling into a straddling position as he pulled away with a slight gasp before diving back in a second later, trying to get a better angle.

Jeremy didn’t have time to breathe, but he didn’t care. His arms were thrown around Michael’s midsection, his leg instinctively bending in a way that allowed them to get closer, but not fall. He was sort of at a loss for what to do next. Was he supposed to add tongue?

A bit of the intensity was lost as Michael smiled into the kiss. He pulled back, panting heavily. “Jeremiah Heere,” he pressed another deep kiss to his lips. “I love you with every fiber of my being.” He nipped at Jeremy's bottom lip teasingly, biting it slightly before running his tongue over it soothingly.

Jeremy gasped, and before he could think, he found himself kissing Michael again, open mouthed, Michael’s tongue still out slightly. One of Jeremy’s hands moved nervously to Michael’s hair, unconsciously remembering what pulling it could do. He gave it a small experimental tug as he deepened their kiss. 

Michael whined slightly, biting down on Jeremy's lip slightly harder before opening his mouth slightly, silently urging Jeremy to do the same in order to deepen the kiss further. As he did this, Michael's hands shifted from where they were placed on the bed either side of Jeremy, instead moving to Jeremy’s stomach and roughly traveling upwards until they reached the top of his chest.

Jeremy gasped into Michael’s mouth as his boyfriend’s hands stimulated him. He forced himself to pull his lips back, but he kept his hand tangled in Michael’s wet hair. “Micah,” he whispered, “w-what are we doing? Are you okay with this?” He tugged Michael’s hair again. 

Michael nodded desperately, whining slightly louder this time. “P-Please—” his breath was coming in heavy pants, eyes lidded. He hurriedly brought his hands down to the hem of Jeremy's shirt, tugging at it helplessly. “D-don’t wanna stop.”

Jeremy sunk down to kiss Michael’s neck where he’d left marks before. Between kisses, he helped the other boy with removing his own shirt, self consciousness shoved to the side of his mind, but still there. 

Michael carelessly tossed Jeremy's shirt over his shoulder, baring his neck under his boyfriend's lips and he dragged his nails down Jeremy's chest- scratching hard enough to leave light pink marks, but not hard enough to be unpleasant. “M-Miah,” he panted, voice rough and eyes dark. “You're so- beautiful.” His breath caught in his throat, cutting him off with a gasp.

Jeremy could hardly breathe. He groaned at the feeling Michael’s nails made, and groaned again at his words. Instead of responding, since he had no clue what he could say to that—it was embarrassing—he pulled Michael down hard and flipped over. It took a lot of strength, but now he was on top, knee between Michael’s thighs. He kept kissing Michael’s neck, this time having a better angle. 

Michael— who had been caught off guard by the sudden flip– didn't try to stop the soft breathy moan that escaped him. His arms automatically went around to grip at Jeremy's back, and he instinctively rolled his hips up into his boyfriend's. “Fuck,” he swore, nails reflexively digging into Jeremy's skin. He pulled Jeremy off of his neck, guiding his lips back to Michael's own. Michael sighed into the kiss, licking at the seam of Jeremy's lips to ask for entrance. His head was spinning, his senses filled with nothing but Jeremy. God, two weeks ago he only could've dreamed of something like this happening. Yet here he was- pinned to his bed by _Jeremy fucking Heere_.

Jeremy immediately granted Michael the entrance he desired, tugging yet again at the swatch of hair he held in his right hand. His left was pulling at the hem of Michael’s shirt. It wasn’t fair that Jeremy was the only exposed one. He wanted to see Michael the same way Michael was seeing him. It certainly would make him feel better about being shirtless. 

Michael tensed as he felt Jeremy tugging at his shirt. His whole body went stiff, and he pulled away just far enough to speak. “W-Wait, Jeremy,” he gasped, lust quickly being replaced with fear. Fuck, what was he supposed to do? Once Jeremy saw his stupid body he would realize how incredibly un-sexy Michael was, and then he’d want to stop, and then he'd break up with him, and Michael would be destroyed. Fuck! Michael gulped. He was sure his anxiety was shining through his eyes, he never was very good at hiding his emotions around Jeremy. He desperately searched for something to say– a reason to avoid him seeing Michael's body.

Jeremy looked down at Michael, in the eyes. “Did you wanna stop?” he asked in all seriousness, ready to peel himself off him at any second in the case of an affirmation. He’d be fine if Michael wanted to stop. It wasn’t as if he himself wanted to, but making Michael happy was his top priority now. He vowed to keep it that way until he died. There was too much pain in his and Michael’s lives right now. It wasn’t fair to do this to him. So, yes, he’d be fine if Michael wanted to stop. He waited patiently for an answer, smoothing Michael’s wet hair back down from where he’d been tugging it. 

Michael jolted, “No!” He yelped, shaking his head. “Of course not, I just–” Michael paused, biting his lip anxiously and turning away from Jeremy’s gaze. “I just… I don't want you to see my stupid body.” He stumbled out, cheeks burning. “I– I don't– I’m not amazing and beautiful like you are, I'm fat and gross and sad.” He muttered, choking up slightly. Fuck! He just _had_ to _fucking_ ruin everything, didn't he? Damn it! 

Jeremy stopped listening after Michael paused the second time. “Micah, I just want _you_. You’re gorgeous who you are. If I judged you for just being yourself, I’d kind of be a hypocrite, don’t you think?” He gestured to his own pale stick of an exposed body. “Man, humans are fucked up. We’re not _supposed_ to be perfect. Even our idea of perfect isn’t really perfect. It’s flawed, too. I’m flawed, you’re flawed, it’s just human. You’re human, and I love you to fucking death, Michael. You shouldn’t have to hide yourself from me. I must be doing something wrong.” He didn’t know where the words had come from, but they’d poured out like a waterfall. They were true, of course. He did think Michael was gorgeous, maybe even _because_ of the things Michael hated about himself. They made him special. Jeremy was surprised he’d even been able to say anything. He only hoped it was what Michael needed to hear. 

Michael looked back up at Jeremy, lip quivering. “Jeremy, don't make me cry while I have a boner.” He let out a shaky laugh before looking back at Jeremy more seriously. He felt breathless just looking at him, the serious expression on his face, the _love_ in his eyes. “Okay.” He said, smiling crookedly. He reached down, pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing it over the edge of the bed. Then he waited, eyes crushed closed, for Jeremy to do… whatever he wanted to do. He swallowed thickly, his trust for Jeremy outweighing his insecurities.

Heaven really was Michael Mell. Jeremy took in the sight—which he’d seen before, but these circumstances changed everything. Michael looked so soft, so warm. Every mark on his torso only meant he was that much softer. It was lovely, really. How could Jeremy show him he wasn’t turned off? He thought for a moment before scooching down and leaning over Michael’s body. He didn’t know if this would be too weird, but it should get the message across. He lightly peppered kisses over every spot he could reach, taking extra time with each mark. He needed them to tell Michael how elated he was, how in love.

Michael gasped at the first press of lips against his skin, automatically bringing his hand down to rest in Jeremy's hair. He watched Jeremy traverse his torso lovingly. Michael brought his other hand up, covering his face. “Oh God,” he huffed out, smiling widely behind his hand. “Fuck, Jeremy, I don't deserve you.” He laughed happily. “Fuck, Come– Get back up here– I love you, I love you so much, Oh my God, Jeremy–” Michael tugged at Jeremy's hair softly, urging him back up to face level. “God, I shouldn't be able to love someone this much. Miah, you– I–” Michael felt so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of emotion he was experiencing, his words struggling to catch up with his heart. “ _Mahal kita_ , please, Miah, kiss me.” 

Jeremy grinned, now looking back down at Michael’s face. He’d always thought it interesting when Michael spoke his other language. Jeremy wished he could do that. He could only read Hebrew, not speak it. This time, the Tagalog went straight to his heart. Instantly, he lowered himself back down to kiss Michael as he asked. Passion flowed from his lips into Michael’s as he tried pouring all his emotions into the other boy. The hand that wasn’t in Michael’s hair was on his chest, laying lightly but pressured enough for Michael to feel it. 

Michael instantly deepened the kiss, trying to pour his heart into it. His fears and worries had been completely obliterated by Jeremy with just a few words. He wanted this- he wanted to do everything and anything he could with Jeremy- Michael had never felt more sure about anything in his life. He found himself pulling away to babble in between desperate kisses. “I want to be with you forever.” Kiss. “We can get a dog,” Kiss. “And we'll get old and married,” Kiss. “And have beautiful babies.” He dived into the kiss slightly deeper this time, once again asking for entrance to the rest of Jeremy's mouth with his tongue.

Jeremy readily granted it again, and they stayed that way for a while, kissing—more like making out at that point. Jeremy had eventually stuck his tongue into the mix as well. Finally, he pried himself away from Michael to speak. “That sounds perfect, Micah,” he agreed. “Those babies are gonna love you, I promise.” He ghosted a kiss to Michael’s jawline. “You’ll be so good.” He laughed a little at his thoughts. “Daddy Michael.”

Michael smirked wickedly, leaning to whisper into Jeremy's ear. “ _Daddy Jeremy_.”

Jeremy’s face flushed. He should have just kept quiet. Shit. He didn’t mean to– _shit_. Michael’s voice was low and _hot_. There were no adults to walk in on them this time. The risk was minimal. “What do you want, baby?” His hands trailed down Michael’s chest. 

Michael gasped at the touch, mind spinning. “I- I don't-” Jesus, Michael felt like he was made of pure euphoria at this point. He could barely process what he was saying.

Jeremy leaned down to whisper in Michael’s ear, all the while his hips grinding on the other boys’ painfully slow. “Tell me what you want me to do, baby.” 

Michael's back arched slightly, a desperate moan slipping from his lips as he searched for any kind of relief. “Ah, J– _Fuck_!” he was breathing heavily, his face burning. God, this was so much. Was this actually happening? Michael really _really_ fucking hoped so. 

Jeremy’s nervousness outweighed his lust for only a moment. Upon composing himself, he spoke again, trying to maintain the character and confidence he’d managed to build up. Michael was just so damn hot. “Fuck? Is that what you want?”

Michael bucked his hips up desperately. “ _Just fucking touch me_ ,” he groaned, trying to get something– anything– out of him. “I’ll be good, I p-promise.” 

“You’ll be good?” Jeremy repeated. “Are you sure? Look how desperate you are. You’re so beautiful. But a good boy? I dunno about that,” he teased. He purposely starved himself of the friction they both needed just to see what Michael would do. 

Michael honest to God whimpered at Jeremy's words. “P-Please! I will be g-good, I’ll be d-daddy’s good boy.” He was unraveling, driven purely buy instinct. 

Jeremy had a few guesses as to what was in that bag Michael had thrown on the bed. Reaching over, he found that he’d been right. At least Michael’s moms cared about protection. He nipped at Michael’s ear, opening the box to the side. “Show me how good you can be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the boys are fixed! Some emotional talk happened during the uncomfortable section. Basically Michael was scared of Jeremy seeing him shirtless, but Jeremy helped with the anxiety and yeah they fucked but we didn’t write that far. Most that happened was like a moan and both were shirtless :/ please donate money so I stop crying.


	37. (please do not fuck bad memories)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning after fluff !!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh geez you guys these comments really do mean so much to us. Thank you to everyone who's been following this fic! Thanks to anyone reading in the future who made it this far!! It's not quite over yet, but we're approaching the final arc, sadly. This fic has been an adventure for both of us and we're so so glad that you guys like it as much as you do!! Enough gushing, here's these gay nerds (post doin the dirty ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) -USux

Michael blinked his eyes open blearily, yawning. As he shifted, he realized that– rather than a typical bed– he was currently sprawled out on top of something much more solid and warm. He glanced up, cheeks instantly lighting up as he realized that it was Jeremy– in all of his bare chested glory, his arms wrapped around Michael as best he could– that he was, in fact, laying on. All at once, the events of the previous night came crashing back to him. Holy. Shit. Had they really..? Michael lifted the covers slightly, glancing down at himself. He yelped, quickly flattening the blanket back down. _They had definitely done it._

Michael looked back up at Jeremy, taking in his sleeping figure. His heart thudded in his chest, making him smile. His head was currently resting on his collarbone, so Michael turned his head and kissed his skin softly. 

Jeremy didn’t wake up, but he did smile a little. He was truly exhausted. At least today was Saturday. Finally. 

“Jeremy,” Michael hummed, rubbing his boyfriend's side comfortingly in an attempt to rouse him. “Hey.”

Jeremy whined in response, still mostly asleep. He was in the middle of the best dream of his life. Dream Jeremy and Dream Michael had gone to Dream Disney World and were currently holding hands riding the Dream ‘It’s a Small World’ ride. Dream Michael pecked Dream Jeremy on the cheek, and it was perfect. 

Michael tried again, slightly louder. “Jeremy, up.” He commanded softly as he splayed his hand out to rest on Jeremy's bare stomach. “C’mon.”

The smaller boy shifted in his daze. Groaning again, he pulled the covers up over his head and held Michael’s hand so it would stay on his torso. 

Michael yelped as Jeremy pulled the blanket over himself, covering Michael as well. “Jeremy, it's gonna get hot in here. And not in the sexy way.” He laughed, wriggling slightly. How could Jeremy find this comfortable? Michael could never breathe well when he was under the covers like this. He pressed down on Jeremy's stomach with a little bit more pressure. “Speaking of sexy stuff,” he started, pressing another kiss aimlessly to whatever skin he could reach.

Jeremy absently giggled at the tickling feeling. He was starting to be pulled out of his dream. “Micah,” he mumbled through tiny laughs, “stop.” He kicked until he successfully kicked Michael’s leg. “Hmph.”

Michael grinned, ignoring the kick and continuing his assault of kisses. His hand idly crept towards Jeremy's side. “If you don't wake up, I’m gonna have to tickle you.” He warned.

Jeremy’s eye cracked open. “Please don’t,” he croaked. Tickling was fun and games for about two seconds before it just ended up hurting. 

Michael smiled, using his free arm to pull the covers back down off of their heads. “Hey,” he started, now that Jeremy was looking at him. “How does it feel to not be a virgin anymore?” Michael smiled softly to himself as he thought back to the night before. It had been a mess— awkward and bumbling, both of them trying to figure out what worked and what didn't, timidness and nerves ever present but drowned out by their feeling for one another. It wasn't perfect, by any means, in fact they had been so clumsy that they had ended up having to pause multiple times in fits of laughter over one thing or the other– but Michael wouldn't have had it any other way. He was pretty sure he had cried at some point during the endeavour, sometime near the… end, but it had merely been Michael's overwhelming emotional feelings getting the better of him, once again.  
They were each other's firsts– friend, boyfriend, lover– and, if Michael could help it, Jeremy would be his only. Michael remembered that by the end of everything last night, they had been so giggly and worn out that they had more or less passed out on the spot— after cleaning up, of course. Michael remembered laying there, listening to Jeremy’s steady heartbeat in the after haze, the soothing rhythm eventually lulling him to sleep. He remembered thinking that he wanted to fall asleep to that sound every night. He was _going_ to marry this boy, that much he had decided long ago. They were only 16, still practically children, and Michael knew that kids would always act dumb and lovestruck over anyone and everyone; but he was determined to follow through. He would stay with Jeremy as long as he would have him.

He shook himself back into the present, grinning up at Jeremy expectantly. 

Jeremy hissed at the light. “What…?” His mind raced back to last night. Well, fuck. Literally. If someone had told him even a week ago that he’d lose his virginity at 16 to Michael Mell, he’d not only laugh, but also give a very detailed list of reasons as to why that was impossible. But here they were—Jeremy having just realized he was still naked—afterwards, and honestly, it was the best way it could have happened. Michael had been there by his side through everything, it was only fair he saw these moments too. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “Oh my _god_.” He couldn’t sit up, because Michael was on top of him. “Uh–” he paused awkwardly. “H-How are you? Doesn’t it...hurt?”

Michael's grin only widened, a light laugh escaping him. “Does my ass hurt after you fucked me? No, not really. Mostly just sore.” He snorted, shoving his sleep missed hair out of his face. “Damn, looks like my hair got fucked too.”

Jeremy was glad Michael didn’t call him out for not really answering his question. His face was burning hot—it was actually _his_ face and not Michael’s, and Jeremy was glad nothing had happened to change that—and he covered it with one arm. “I’m sorry, holy shit,” he mumbled for lack of anything better to say. 

Michael's smile softened as he reached up, pulling Jeremy's arm away from his face. “I'm not.” He leaned up, giving him a chaste but sweet kiss. 

Jeremy groaned in embarrassment. He needed clothes. He needed something. But Michael’s weight was too spread out for him to move. “Jesus– You can’t say things like that!” He turned impossibly more red. 

Michael kissed him on the cheek quickly before sitting up, grabbing one of the extra blankets he kept by the foot of the bed and wrapping it around himself. “Just did.” He stuck his tongue out childishly. “Not like you can stop me.”

Jeremy could stop him, but it meant making out for a while—which he wasn’t opposed to, but he knew now where it might lead, and he wanted to wait. He pouted. “That’s not fair.” He sat up, making sure the blanket covered himself, and was made aware that he didn’t have a headache. He always had a headache, but today it was gone. Maybe something happened and the SQUIP was completely gone, forever. 

Michael stood up, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table and sliding them on before making his way over to the dresser. He pulled out two pairs of sweatpants– throwing one to Jeremy– and grabbed his discarded shirt from the previous night off of the floor. “I'll be back in a minute.” He disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed and brush his teeth.

Jeremy fumbled with the sweatpants as he watched Michael go. He knew they’d be too big on him. Did that matter anymore? It wasn’t like the boys had many secrets left. He put them on hastily, hurrying to have it done before Michael came back. The pants were very loose around Jeremy’s hips, cocked to one side showing his left hip bone completely—and any marks Michael had left there. He blushed at the thought. He sat back on the bed to wait. 

Michael returned looking mildly more put together and considerably more clothed. He tossed the blanket off onto a chair by the bathroom door before turning back to Jeremy. “My hair dried all w–” he paused as he took in Jeremy's form. He was sat on the bed, hair sleep (and sex) mussed, in Michael's pants, hip bone exposed, body littered in hickeys _from Michael_ , while looking helpless. “Fuck me, dude.” He breathed, blushing. He looked way better than someone should under their current circumstances. “How can _sweatpants_ be too big on someone?”

Jeremy scoffed. “Oh, shut up,” he muttered. He knew Michael was aware that his clothes were all too big for him. “And your hair dried fine.”

Michael paused, suddenly remembering something. “Oh, hey, Jere, by the way- um… can we, uh, talk? Real quick?” 

Jeremy blinked, anxiety rushing in about what this could mean. “S-sure,” he squeaked. He was terrified. They’d finally had the resolution they wanted—everything was fixed and they were happy! Save for that fight they almost witnessed yesterday—yet it still felt like it wasn’t all over. 

“Don't worry, it's nothing bad, I swear! I just– about last night, at the start, when I didn't want to take my shirt off? I just wanted to… thank you? I guess? For what you said. It was— thanks.” Michael wasn't sure where he was going with this, he hadn't really thought before he talked and now he felt kind of dumb for even bringing this up. “Sorry, this is weird, huh?” He shifted anxiously, looking down at his feet as he worried his lip between his teeth.

Jeremy smiled softly. “It’s not weird. You needed to hear it.” To avoid Michael potentially crying again this week, Jeremy shifted the conversation to a softer topic. “You woke me up from the best dream _ever_.” He felt bad for changing the conversation, but he intended to keep everything light and soft today. They deserved it. No more tears. 

Michael smiled thankfully. “What was it about? Blowjob from Brad Pitt and his Fight Club bee lips?”

“What the fuck?” Jeremy looked at Michael with a gleam in his eye that said ‘I love you, but I hate you’. “No,” he said firmly. “We were at Disney. It was magical. You had those Mickey ears and everything, you nerd.” He smiled at the fading memory.

Michael snickered quietly. “You’re such a furry.” He walked over to where Jeremy was sitting on the bed. “A furry who either doesn't know how sweatpants work or is trying to seduce me at nine in the morning.” He reached down to the waistband of Jeremy's sweatpants, locating the weird string thing that adjusted the size. He yanked it, making the loose pants fit better on his boyfriend's hips. “Sorry, babe, as absolutely _amazing_ as it was, I’m too sore to do anything more than kisses for a while. You’ll have to keep it in your pants for the day, at least.” 

Jeremy looked down at the string dangling from the waistband. “I didn’t know that did anything,” he muttered. He wasn’t a fan of sweatpants. He usually settled for jeans or khakis. Those were normally comfortable enough for him. As for what Michael said, he didn’t want to think about how he was the reason his boyfriend was in pain. Even given the...circumstances. He pouted anyway.

Michael rolled his eyes playfully. “Nerd.” Michael grabbed his phone from the bedside table. “Oh,” he mumbled, squinting at the screen. 

Jeremy looked back up. “What is it?” He tried to look over Michael’s shoulder, but he couldn’t quite get the right angle. The air was also starting to get noticeable on his bare chest--He was cold.

Michael turned slightly, showing Jeremy his phone. “Apparently Mom had to work late last night, so they're having date night today instead. They're gonna be gone all day. Apparently they wanted to go to a fair a couple towns over.”

“What? So they’re gone today too?” Jeremy bounced on the bed, already getting excited for what they could do.

Michael nodded, typing out a quick reply to his mother's texts. Apparently they had left early that morning, so instead of waking them they just decided to send Michael texts explaining their absence. “She said there's leftovers in the fridge, if you're hungry. Or I could maybe make something.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Whatever you want, Micah. Right now, I just want a shirt.” His arms were folded across his chest in coldness and modesty.

Michael looked around the room curiously. “Where the fuck did your shirt even go?” He remembered throwing it somewhere, but he couldn't see it on the floor.

Jeremy made a vague gesture. “I dunno, man.” He paused. “Give me that sweater you never wear. I’m freezing.”

Michael blushed slightly at the idea of Jeremy walking around in his clothes. Cute. He hummed, walking over to his closet. He pulled the door open, going straight to the very back and grabbing the sweater that he had had hidden away. “I have a better idea.” He hung the empty hanger back up, tossing the sweater to Jeremy before looking away, flushing slightly. “I haven't worn that since that night. Every time I looked at it all I could think about was what happened in that stupid bathroom. So, how about you wear it now so that we can replace the bad memories with new ones.” He shrugged.

Jeremy shivered at the memory of what he’d said to Michael at Jake’s party. He would never forgive himself for that. Of all the bad things that had happened there, that was beyond the worst. He nodded numbly and twisted his arms to let the sweater fall onto his body, sleeves too long and neck too low. “I like that plan, Michael,” he said softly. 

Michael shivered as he looked at Jeremy. He looked like he was _Michael's_. He didn't want to admit just how much that idea pleased him. Damn, since when was he so possessive, anyway? Whatever. “Fuck bad memories, y’know?” He shrugged, smiling softly. “Let's go upstairs. We can play house for the day.”

Jeremy hopped up, the pant legs covering his feet slightly. “Grab those two Pokémon plushies, they can be our twins.” He laughed, not expecting Michael to take the request seriously, but still putting enough sentiment into his words that they would sound heartfelt. 

Michael chuckled, grabbing his Magikarp plush and throwing it at Jeremy. “No child of mine is gonna be a Magikarp.” 

“Fine, then forget it,” Jeremy said in mock offense, tossing the toy onto the bed. 

“Let's get out of this fuck dungeon.” Michael pointed a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing in the vague direction of the stairs. Michael pouted internally. He was gonna have to clean up his room soon. There were loose clothes scattered around (not just from last night) and the box of condoms had fallen off of the bed and spilled onto the floor. It did kinda look like a really low budget sex dungeon in here.

Jeremy scoffed at what Michael had called his room. They hadn’t been _that_ rough. He rolled his eyes and whipped around, nearly tripping on his pants in the process. Catching himself, he made his way toward the staircase. Over his shoulder, he called to Michael. “You know that game Seven Minutes In Heaven? Today’s gonna be like, Twenty Four Hours In Married Life.” It had sounded better in his head. 

Michael laughed, following Jeremy upstairs. He may or may not have taken a minute to… appreciate Jeremy's form as he moved in front of him. “That's– That doesn't even make sense, you dweebus.” 

“It doesn’t have to,” Jeremy said as he disappeared up the stairs and past the basement door. First stop was the kitchen; he may have dismissed the idea of breakfast a few minutes ago, but now he was hungry.

Michael shrugged. “Whatever. Oh, wait a minute,” Michael grabbed Jeremy's wrist, swiftly spinning him around to face him and pulling him to his chest. “I can't remember if I said it yet today,” he starts, wrapping his arms around Jeremy's waist. He leaned down, capturing Jeremy's lips in a slow languid kiss. He pulled back, keeping direct eye contact with his boyfriend as he spoke again. “I love you.” Michael fully intended to remind his boyfriend of this _at least_ once a day every day for the rest of his mortal life. And then some.

Jeremy giggled and put his hands on Michael’s chest—the optimal position. “I love you, too, Micah,” he said through his grin. He planned on showing that love forever.


	38. (Please Do Not Fuck Pancakes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> softe bois

Michael shuffled around the kitchen, locating all the necessary cooking utensils he was going to need. Jeremy was perched on the granite island counter, legs swinging. They had decided, after a small amount of debate, that breakfast food was for chumps. Fuck pancakes. So, instead, they were making brownies. Michael had an idea to eat them with strawberries (that way it's technically healthy, because that's definitely how it works.) Which Michael had found whilst they were looking around for something to make. If there was one thing about the Mell household- they _loved_ strawberries. His mothers always had a minimum of three packages of them in the fridge at all times. So, that meant they had plenty to spare. They had one of the plastic containers out on the counter, so that that could snack on them while the brownies were still in progress.

Jeremy sucked the last bit of fruit off a stem and tossed it to the side. “Hey,” he interjected, “we’re licking the bowl, right?” He always licked the bowl. No excuses. 

Michael shot him a look. “Of fucking course we are, who do you think I am?”

“Just my loving Fake-Husband for the day,” Jeremy replied innocently.

Michael gasped dramatically, pausing with a large metal bowl in his hands. “Did you just call me _fake_? I'll have you know that I am the realest bitch in town.”

Jeremy playfully rolled his eyes, swinging his feet off the counter. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Michael snorted, coming to stand beside Jeremy as he placed the bowl on the counter. “Let's fuck these brownies _up_.” He proclaimed enthusiastically, grabbing the box containing the brownie mix. 

“Let’s not and say we did.” Jeremy watched as Michael opened the box. He liked to think he was helping just by being there. He pursed his lips. “These are gonna taste like perfection. You know why?”

“Hmm?” Michael hummed in question, eyeing the instructions on the back of the box and dropping the bag of chocolate powder into the bowl. 

“Because of all the love in the air!” Jeremy grinned. He felt so overjoyed to be here with Michael, doing this, dating him. He knew it was what he was meant to do. 

Michael scrunched his nose up, giving Jeremy a funny look. “Oh my god.” He muttered to himself. He gave Jeremy a sideways glance as he grabbed the scissors to cut open the bag of brownie mix. “Jeremy, dude, bro, no offense but-” he lowered his voice to a scandalized whisper. “ _That's kinda gay_.”

Jeremy couldn’t believe Michael said that. “You’re gay, you jerk,” he said jokingly. After all they’d done together—especially the night before—did Michael really make that joke? God, such a Michael move. He really shouldn’t have been surprised. 

Michael beamed, laughing as he dumped the powder into the bowl. “Damn, you got me.” He threw the empty plastic in Jeremy's vague direction. “And you’ve been acting exponentially more _twink_ -like ever since you had your dick in another guy's ass.” He smirked, grabbing the eggs.

“I didn’t think I was acting any different,” Jeremy mumbled, blushing at Michael’s words alone. How could he say those things so confidently out loud? He grabbed the trash and set it by his strawberry leaves to throw away later. 

Michael shrugged, smile softening. “Dunno, you’ve just been… softer. More open. You aren’t thinking so hard before you say stuff. It’s good.” He cracked the eggs into the bowl carefully. “Maybe your twinksona is evolving. It will merge with your fursona.” He grinned manically. “Your funksona.”

Jeremy was thinking of a response to the first half of Michael’s comment when the second suddenly set in. “What the fuck? You know I don’t have a fursona! Stop spreading rumors! I am not a furry!” Middle school didn’t define Jeremy Heere. 

Michael laughed at Jeremy’s flustered response. He reached across Jeremy to place the discarded egg shells on top of the plastic bag because he was too lazy to walk to the trash can. He took advantage of this when pulling back, pausing to lean up and blow a messy raspberry on Jeremy’s exposed collarbone. “I don’t think it counts as spreading rumors when we’re the only people here.”

“You’re spreading them to our babies.” Jeremy huffed, trying to control his deepening blush caused by Michael’s lips on his collarbone. This sweater really was too big, but it was so warm. It was softer than it looked, too. And, of course, it smelled like Michael. Always a plus. 

Michael looked at Jeremy with wide eyes. “Oh my God, Jeremy, are you telling me-” Michael clutched a hand to his stomach dramatically. “ _I’m pregnant?_ ”

“Yes, Michael,” Jeremy said. “You get the cravings yet?”

Michael gasped, bringing his other hand up to cover his mouth in faux shock. “I thought it was just normal to have an overwhelming urge to vore strawberries 24/7.” He paused, looking down at his stomach. “Fuck, I have a twink baby.”

Jeremy tilted his head. “Why’s the baby a twink?” He wasn’t going to mention Michael’s choice word ‘vore’. No thanks. 

Michael shrugged, dropping his arms and resuming his baking. “Takes after his _Daddy_.” he teased, reaching for the vegetable oil. 

“Don’t–” Jeremy sighed, eyes closed. “Don’t.” Although it might have spiced things up in the bedroom—and he wasn’t even sure if it did—he was not about to talk about that. No. 

Michael sniggered, measuring out the proper amount of oil and pouring it in. “I need a pregnancy strawberry, c’mon, care for me, nerd.” Michael held his mouth open expectantly, not looking away from his measuring cup as he began measuring out the water they needed.

Jeremy groaned and forced a big strawberry into Michael’s mouth. The things he did for his pregnant husband. 

Michael munched on it happily, trying to speak around the chunk of fruit in his mouth. “Ues ih ‘ay nethng lse?”

Jeremy laughed at Michael’s feeble attempt. “What did you say?” It was frankly adorable. 

Michael groaned, quickly chewing the strawberry so that he could swallow it. “I said ‘Does it say anything else.’ The box.” he jerked his head to gesture to the brownie mix box that was laying on the counter next to Jeremy. “Any more ingredients or should I mix this thing up?” he stopped for a second before jolting. “ _Wait_.” He started, meeting Jeremy’s eyes. “What about, and bear with me here, _weed brownies_.”

Jeremy gulped. Last time the pair had gotten stoned together, he had eaten the majority of food in Michael’s pantry and had tried to fight a toaster. “Are you sure about that? We’re responsible adults today, remember?”

Michael pouted, puffing out his cheeks. “Damn, you’re right. I don’t know that weed is good for the baby.” He put a hand on his stomach sadly. “Probably for the best. I bet it would just, like, absorb all the weed and I wouldn’t even get high. I’d just be growing a weed baby.”

“No, but really. You think weed’s a good idea?”

Michael hummed, picking up the whisk. “I think the _idea_ of weed is good. I’m not really in the mood to be stoned today, anyway. I mean, as much as I enjoy watching you getting angry because you thought the toaster ate your bread, I’d rather be more clear headed today. Maybe next time. Plus the whole house would probably smell fuck awful.”

Jeremy nodded. Pot smelled terrible, no matter how it made you feel. “I don’t want to be suffocated in our home.”

Michael set to work hand mixing the brownie batter, bowl held in one arm and whisk in the other. “What do you wanna do while we eat? And while we wait for these to bake, actually.” he asked, glancing at Jeremy without halting his mixing.

“Hm,” Jeremy put his finger to his chin in thought. “What do you want to do? I feel like our normal stuff will just end up with us k-kissing.” He cursed himself for stuttering. It wasn’t the time. 

Michael raised an eyebrow. “And that's bad how? We’re in the puppy love stage of our relationship, Jerm. We’re supposed to be all over each other all the time. We're teenagers.”

“There are stages?” Jeremy squeaked. He hadn’t known that. Where was the damn love handbook? The SQUIP hadn’t prepared him for this. 

Michael nodded slightly, unconsciously swaying a bit as he cocked his hip to rest the bowl on so that he could mix it easier. “Well, I mean, yeah, kinda. Haven’t you ever watched couples at school? It’s always the same pattern. First few months they’re all over each other-- making out in the hallways, hugging for uncomfortably long amounts of time before going to their classes-- that kind of thing. Then after that they start noticing that the other person is actually just a gross snotty teenager and not, like, a fuckin’ god of love or some shit. Then they start arguing and pulling sly shit behind each others back, y’know, sending nudes to each other's best friend, that kind of thing. Then they realize they fucking hate each other and break up, immediately seeking out a new mate, and voila- the process begins again. The circle of fuck.” He snorted at his own joke. “No, but really. That’s just dumb teenagers, y’know? Some of them do work out. With those relationships you always know that they’re gonna work out. Kinda like Rich and Jake. Those two can’t seem to _leave_ the damn puppy love stage.” Michael realized he was rambling. “I haven’t even actually answered your question.” he grimaced.

Jeremy’s face had gotten worried. “Y-You’re not saying we’re going to hate each other and break up, right?” He felt sick. The idea terrified him. They’d already been close to that—though they hadn’t been dating. Jeremy had abandoned Michael completely. Now it seemed he had some phobia of being separated from him. 

Michael shook his head almost violently. “No! Fuck, I’m bad at talking. There’s a different type of stages, that couples who actually care about each other go through. Like, puppy love first, then after that you become…” he searched for the right word to use. “Familiar. And then, if you’re really meant to be with each other, you won’t get bored of them after that. If you’re really in love with someone they don’t become a chore, they become your home. Like, y’know how when we would first kiss your heart would get all fast and you’d get crazy butterflies? Once someone becomes your home, that doesn’t really happen. Instead it’s like… Your heart feels like it slows down when you’re around them. It feels like… you’re with who you were always meant to. Like you really belong there, y’know?”

Michael blinked, coming out of his thoughts. “Sorry, I was rambling again. I don’t know what’s up with me today. I have no idea where all of that came from.” He huffed out a laugh, putting the bowl back down on the counter and turning to look at Jeremy.

“How do you know so much about being in love, Micah?” Jeremy thought he knew the answer, but he stared at Michael with wonder in his eyes anyway. He’d never grow bored of him. Jeremy was a hundred percent sure—now that he’d allowed himself to accept it—that he and Michael were bona fide soulmates. 

Michael blushed heavily. “Uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, smiling bashfully. “I guess it’s because I’ve loved you for so long, y’know?” he chuckled nervously. “Well, that and my moms. They used to talk to me about love and stuff whenever I was younger and people got worked up over them being a same sex couple.”

Jeremy smiled. He could think of numerous occasions in their shared past that he witnessed Michael’s moms be insulted and even harassed a couple times. That wasn’t what he was smiling about, of course. Those memories made him angry and feel bad for Jasmine and Maria. He was smiling because he’d been right—Michael had loved him for so long that he was practically a love expert. A love doctor. “That’s really sweet.”

Michael cleared his throat, grabbing the brownie pan to pour the batter into. “I-It’s nothing, I was just talking. It probably wasn’t even, like, accurate or anything. I mean, I’m 16, what do I know?” He blabbered on, grabbing the bowl and pouring the batter into the pan carefully. 

“It sounded realistic to me,” Jeremy countered. “But then again, I’m 16, too.” Shit. “Shit, Michael, we’re 16. Isn’t this all kind of- of...inappropriate?” 

Michael quirked an eyebrow. “Jeremy, There are people in our grade who were fucking when they were literally 14. It’s fine. It’s not like one of us is a pedophile or anything.” He put down the- now mostly empty- bowl of batter and grabbed the pan, turning to put it in the oven which had already been preheated. 

“I-I guess,” Jeremy muttered. Michael was right, of course. Wasn’t he? Jeremy popped another strawberry into his mouth. It was small, and didn’t take long for it to be gone. “Is this what married life is like?”

Michael shrugged, shuffling over to Jeremy. He had the strawberries on one side of him and the excess batter on the other, giving Michael an idea. He stepped forward so that he was stood in between Jeremy’s thighs, grabbing a strawberry and dipping it into the extra batter whilst he talked. “Maybe. Dunno. Never been married before.” He held the chocolate covered strawberry up triumphantly, pressing it to Jeremy’s lips.

Jeremy made a muffled sound of surprise before letting the strawberry slide in, biting it off the stem successfully. He had absolutely no clue how to react, so he shot Michael a double thumbs up. 

Michael laughed before getting a strawberry for himself. “Thanks. Glad you approve.”

Jeremy chewed the fruit, rolling his eyes playfully and using his legs to pull Michael closer. Upon swallowing, he cleared his throat. “I think you just created a new twist to a classic dessert, babe.”

“Great. I’m like a chocolate Chef Boyardee. He bit into his strawberry thoughtfully. “And I make desserts, too.” He snickered at his own joke.

“Wow,” Jeremy replied, reaching over and sticking his finger into the bowl. He held it up, now chocolate covered.

Michael knew he probably shouldn’t do it. He knew it was just going to get them both worked up again. But he couldn’t resist. He leaned forward, taking Jeremy’s finger into his mouth and sucking the chocolate off of it, glancing up at Jeremy through his eyelashes to gauge his reaction.

Jeremy gasped. There was no way he was going to let himself turn this any more sexual than it already was. Nonetheless, he flushed. “G-God, Michael,” he stammered. 

Michael pulled off of his finger. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it.” He muttered breathlessly. He moved back up to Jeremy’s lips for a slow kiss. “Do you wanna watch cartoons and makeout with me?” he offered, pecking Jeremy again lightly. “I have Lilo and Stitch.”

“Do I have to pay attention to the movie?” Jeremy pouted, wiping his finger off on Michael’s sleeve. 

Michael chuckled, pressing their foreheads together. “No, if you’re paying attention to me instead.”

“Who else?” Jeremy grinned at him, tilting his head so he could kiss Michael’s nose, then resuming their forehead-touching position. 

Michael just stayed like that for a minute. Standing in the kitchen with the boy he loved, comfortably nestled in their own little bubble of contentedness. “Hey,” he whispered, eyes closed.

Jeremy giggled. “Hey,” he said back. He could feel Michael’s warm breath on his face. He hoped this would last. 

“Love you.” Michael breathed, kissing him gently. The smell of brownies wafted around them. Michael took a slightly shuddering breath. “I feel… indescribable.”

“A-A good indescribable?” Jeremy felt the same. At least, he thought he did. It was indescribable, after all. 

“Definitely good.” Michael gave him yet another kiss, this one languid, their lips moving together lazily.

Jeremy put love into the kiss, but not much effort. He was too tired. His legs stayed wrapped around Michael’s waist as they stayed that way. 

They kissed like they didn’t have a care in the world, it was just them, drunk on each other’s taste. Michael eventually pulled away, panting softly. “I could stay like this with you forever.”

Jeremy let out a breathy laugh. “I wish we could, Mikey.” He dropped his legs, trusting that Michael wouldn’t leave him. “Isn’t this perfect?”

Michael grabbed Jeremy’s arms, placing them so that they were loosely draped over his shoulders as Michael placed his hands on Jeremy’s hips. “Everything is perfect, if it's with you.”


	39. (please do not fuck the system)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh god, this is, like,,,,, a LØT

By the time the brownies had finished, Michael and Jeremy had also emptied the bowl of the leftover mix. Jeremy avoided holding his finger too close to Michael the whole time. They’d gotten the movie into the player in the den and had only just turned it on when the oven went off. Jeremy pouted because it meant Michael had to get up and he’d lose his warmth.

Michael chuckled, standing from where they had previously been nestled together in the corner of the couch. “Calm down, Love, I’ll be right back.” He sauntered out of the room to retrieve their not-breakfast.

Jeremy grumbled. He wanted the brownies but he also wanted Michael to stay like that forever. He’d been pressed up against him in a way they were used to, but it held new meaning now. Everything did. Or maybe Jeremy was only just now aware of the meaning it had always held. 

When Michael returned he had the pan of brownies in one hand and two containers of strawberries with a large cup precariously perched on top in his other. “I return with gifts.”

“That looks dangerous,” Jeremy complained, staring nervously at the cup that was leaning a bit too far to the right. 

“These are dangerous times, Jeremy.” Michael carefully placed the brownies on the coffee table, dropping the pot holder he had been using to carry them beside it. He used his now free hand to grab the cup as he dropped the rest of their makeshift meal onto the table as well. “Only got one cup, figured you didn't mind my spit.”

“You’re always licking me, how can I be mad about it anymore?” Jeremy reached for the pan and yanked his hand back. “That’s fuckin’ hot.”

Michael sighed in exasperation. “Jeremy, I literally took it out of the oven less than five minutes ago. _Of fucking course it's hot._ ” He pushed the coffee table closer to the couch so that they could reach it without getting up, grabbed the DVD player remote, and promptly situated himself back where he had been previously huddled with his boyfriend.

Jeremy huffed and wrapped his arm around Michael. Pulling him closer, he grabbed the remote from his hand. “You always have the volume way too high,” he complained. “I’m in charge this time.”

Michael pouted but didn't resist. “Jerm, look, you _know_ I can't hear fuck all these days. All these years of blasting Marley on my headphones hasn't done my hearing any good.”

“I have sensitive ears, jerk,” Jeremy retorted. He turned the volume from 30 down to 14. “You don’t want me in pain for two hours, do you?”

Michael snickered, leaning ever so slightly closer. “You’ve got some sensitive other stuff, too. But those don't hurt when I mess with them, do they.” He teased, eyes glinting. He pulled Jeremy into his lap, hugging him closer by his waist.

Jeremy squeaked. “I’m not talking about _that_!” He settled himself in Michael’s lap, ignoring the pain in his side from the bruise there. He wasn’t going to let pain take away from this moment. 

Michael laughed, reaching around him to grab the cup. “Nothing better than morning soda to go with breakfast brownies. We’re so healthy.” He sipped on the drink– Dr. Pepper— and sighed happily.

“Healthiest teenagers in New Jersey,” Jeremy said, holding his arm out for Michael to give him the cup. 

Michael passed it to him carefully. “Teenagers? How dare you, I’m here– in my own home– recovering from being fucked last night, trying to enjoy a nice soft day with my twink husband, and you insult me like this? I’m a preteen at the very most.”

“Nice,” Jeremy mumbled, sipping the drink. “ _My_ husband is a mature adult.” 

Michael's heart fluttered slightly. “Oh? And who might he be? Some scoundrel you rescued off the streets?” His hands crept under Jeremy's shirt as he rested his palms on the soft skin of his stomach. It wasn't a sexual action, it was more of an intimate one. “Who could _possibly_ capture the heart of the beautiful prince Jeremiah?”

Jeremy shivered a bit at Michael’s cold hands touching his skin. “Only the prince of the rival kingdom, Michael. He and I have pretty good relations, I believe.” 

Michael smiled slightly, bending down and lightly kissing Jeremy's exposed shoulder from where the sweater had fallen down. “Relations, huh? Why, I never knew you were such a deviant. And before marriage? Absolutely scandalous.” He smirked, moving up slightly to kiss Jeremy's neck right on a hickey that he had given him last night. “Sounds to me like that Michael ruffian is no good for you. Nowhere near as good as you deserve.”

“Nah,” Jeremy hummed. “He’s stolen my love and he’s made me happy. Enemy kingdoms mean nothing to us.” He reached his hand up to put it on Michael’s cheek. “Nothing can keep us apart.” 

Michael's smirk softened as he looked up at Jeremy's happy expression. “Well I’m sure he loves you very much, then.” He muttered, blushing slightly due to the intense eye contact.

“Yes he does,” Jeremy said happily. “Have you gotten a prince for yourself?” he asked innocently.

Michael nodded. “In fact, I have. He’s a ravishing, kind, amazingly wonderful boy. A perfect prince. _My_ perfect prince. The love of my life.” He spoke confidently, as if his words were nothing but simple fact. “I would give him my very life, if he asked it of me. I am his, completely.” he pulled one of his hands out from under Jeremy's shirt, bringing it up to rest on top of the hand that was on his cheek, lacing his fingers with Jeremy's. He leaned into the touch, holding Jeremy's hand in place. His voice lowered to a whisper. “My one and only.”

Jeremy giggled, sinking back further into Michael’s warmth. “Micah, you absolute sap,” he chastised. “He’s a very lucky guy, I think. Anyone would be if you loved them.” He was really only going with this to hear what Michael would say about him. It was completely adorable, all of it. 

Michael's cheeks burned as he shrugged. “Guess I just have a lot that I want to say to him. Because, don't be fooled, but I was chasing him for years. A lot kinda builds up over time, y’know? I could probably write a book that was sickeningly sweet enough to make you barf, just with all the things I want to tell him. But it's fine, because,” he squeezed Jeremy's hand slightly, “I plan to be with him long enough to say it all, even if it takes a million years.” God, he really _was_ a sap. Jesus. His mouth had been like a damn broken faucet ever since they woke up. He just couldn't seem to stop. Although, to be fair, it's not like Jeremy was trying to stop him either.

Jeremy felt invincible. Every word Michael said about him gave him a million chills. Every sappy thing Michael told him gave him so much energy and warmth he thought he may explode. He wouldn’t even be upset if he did explode. At least he’d have been with Michael in the end. “Mikey, I love you so much.” He pulled his hand—connected to Michael’s—down to his face. He placed his lips softly to Michael’s knuckles as to not hurt the injuries. 

Michael gave him a goofy grin. “That's good, because that prince I was talking about? It was you.” His chest felt overwhelmingly warm, the feelings so intense that it felt like they were forming a knot right in the middle of him chest. “I love you more than Marley.” 

“You do?” Jeremy squeaked. He knew it was a joke, but of course it still felt special. Michael was just so perfect. Jeremy couldn’t stop thinking about how things might be different if he’d let himself love Michael earlier. Maybe they would have gone to Homecoming together. Would their school allow that? Rich and Jake weren’t together at Homecoming, so maybe it wouldn’t be allowed. It seemed like the same-sex floodgates at the school opened when Rich and Jake announced they were official. Or maybe Michael and Jeremy would have gone anyway. Fuck the system. Jeremy’s thoughts shifted back to more current events as Michael’s smile became the focus of his vision again. He really did want this forever. Finally, he blinked, and with that he realized there had been tears building in his eyes. He was crying. 

Michael blinked in confusion at the tears that filled Jeremy's eyes. “Uh, Jeremy, I really hope those are, like, happy tears. Because otherwise I don't know why you're crying and I'm very alarmed and worried. What's wrong?” Michael, realistically, knew that it was probably just Jeremy's emotions getting the better of him (God knew Jeremy's body was emotional as hell), but that didn't stop Michael's distress as he saw the tears in his cheeks. 

“I just–” Jeremy sniffled, another tear falling down and smearing the last bit of concealer covering his bruise. “I just fucking love you so much, man,” he said between small sobs. His eyes were screwed shut and he was holding Michael’s hand close to his face like it was precious. 

If Michael hadn't felt like there had been an emotional knot in his chest before, he _definitely_ did now. The knot felt so big that it almost hurt. He felt it from the middle of his rib cage all the way up into the back of his throat. Jeremy's words had, quite literally, stolen his breath away. He puffed out a quick breath, heart throbbing. “I-” Michael cut himself off with a choked inhale. Damn, now he was gonna cry. His tried again, breathing unevenly. “I know,” Michael moved the hand that wasn't in Jeremy's and brought it up to wrap around his shoulders, crushing him to his chest. “Feels like the word isn't even strong enough anymore, doesn't it?” He laughed, voice becoming slightly hoarse. “You mean the universe to me.” 

Jeremy kept up his sobs, shaking into Michael. He nodded violently in agreement. “There– There aren’t words for it, Micah,” he cried. “I’m sorry it took so long, I’m _sorry_.” He coughed. “But dammit, it was worth it. I’d do anything for you. Hell, I’d take the SQUIP all over again if it meant you’d be safe or something.” He was rambling. Nothing he said really made sense once he said it. The tears weren’t slowing down. 

Michael smiled softly, rubbing Jeremy's shoulder comfortingly. “I know, Miah. It's okay. All that matters is that you're here now. And we're together.” His words were becoming increasingly more unsteady as his own tears began to set in. He gulped, lip quivering involuntarily. “I would die for you.” He whispered hoarsely, sniffling. He absolutely meant it. He felt like he should be shocked by this realization, that the fact that he valued Jeremy's life so highly it surpassed even his own should have been harder to accept. But Michael wasn't shocked in the slightest. 

Jeremy shook again, but instead of a sob, it was a laugh. “Not if I die for you first,” he whispered back, finally wiping the tears from his face, wincing when his hand brushed over his injured cheek. He shifted the sleeves of the sweater he wore so that they covered his hands—an unconscious effort to appear cuter to Michael. 

Michael felt himself grin at the sound of Jeremy's laugh. God, he loved that laugh. He gently shifted Jeremy where he sat in his lap, situating them so that Michael was basically cradling a teary Jeremy in his arms as he laid across his legs, looking up at him. Michael scrunched his nose up at him playfully. “I’d fuck a duck for you.”

Jeremy giggled again, breathing stabilizing finally. “Dude,” he said sniffling, “don’t do that. That’s gross. I wouldn’t be in a situation where you had to do that.”

Michael shrugged, twisting to grab the blanket that his mothers kept thrown over the back of the couch and gingerly spreading it out on top of Jeremy. He wanted Jeremy to be as comfortable and happy as possible. That’s what he always wanted. He leaned forward, grabbing a brownie out of the pan— They had cooled during the boys’ rambles— and brought it down near Jeremy's lips in a silent offering.

Jeremy playfully rolled his eyes and opened his mouth in acceptance. He hummed at the warmth the blanket created. Seriously, if this is what married life is like, Jeremy never wanted to live without Michael as his husband. 

Michael fed him carefully, occasionally taking a bite for himself. “What–” Michael paused, reconsidering his question. What if Jeremy thought it was too soon, or it ruined the mood? Michael realized that they had literally just cried over how much they loved each other and said how much they loved each other, but the question Michael was going to ask felt… naïve. Like he shouldn't be asking it when they were still so young. But, honestly? Fuck that. Michael already knew he wanted to marry this boy. “Um, what size ring do you wear?”

Jeremy gulped. Did Michael really just insinuate— “A-An eight,” he stammered, heart pounding in his chest. He really felt invincible now. He stayed still, waiting for a response. The back of his mind raced with hopes that this wasn’t a joke. He wouldn’t be able to take that. 

Michael nodded, making a mental note. “Okay. I’ll remember that.” He intended to go to the Jewelers, possibly tomorrow. It's never bad to be prepared for the future, right? Maybe he could surprise Jeremy with a promise ring? That felt dumb. Michael had always thought promise rings were stupid. But, here he was, considering buying one for Jeremy. “I’m going to marry you, one day. Okay?”

Michael had decided. Honestly? Fuck it. He was buying an engagement ring tomorrow. He didn't care if he had to take out a damn loan. As much as he absolutely hated all of those stupid straight couples who are in high school and claim that they're 'married’ and have found 'the one’ and post all those stupid pictures with the mountains of unironic emojis— Michael didn't fucking care anymore. His mind was made the second he saw that hopeful look in Jeremy's eyes. He probably would've straight up proposed then and there, if he had a ring.

Don't get him wrong, Michael wasn't about to run to off to the next available chapel and tie the knot just like that. No, he wanted to wait until they had graduated, at the very least. Maybe when they were in college, or after that when they had a home and grown up jobs and their dogs. It didn't matter that much. Michael just wanted… the gesture. A ring that wasn't meant to claim him as a husband, but rather as the most important person in Michael's life. The only people who even came close to the level of importance were his mothers. Michael wanted to give him the ring as a promise, not of marriage, but instead a promise that Michael would always be there, with him, through thick and thin. A promise that he was never going anywhere.

“Okay.”


	40. (Please Do Not Fuck Death)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the calm before the storm

The boys had, unsurprisingly, ended up having to restart the movie. This time they did actually manage to watch it. For the most part. A considerable amount of time had been spent with Michael feeding Jeremy brownies and strawberries, as well as simply just carding his fingers through Jeremy's hair as he laid there. It wasn't a surprise when Jeremy fell asleep- they _had_ just had an intense emotional tear-fest, after all. So, when the credits of Lilo and Stitch were rolling across the screen for the second time that day, Michael ever so carefully slipped out from under Jeremy's sleeping form, kissing his forehead lovingly before heading into the kitchen. It was getting fairly late, and all they had eaten was brownies, strawberries, and each other's faces. So Michael set to work making dinner for them.

Jeremy stirred, but didn’t wake up. He was dreaming again, but this time it wasn’t Disney World. This dream was different—it felt too real. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, since it was again about himself and Michael, but it was an odd feeling. Jeremy _thought_ it was a dream–the edges of his vision were cloudy, signs said gibberish instead of english, and time passed abnormally–but the physicality of it all felt solid. He and Michael were walking down a street at night in a city that seemed to be an exaggerated New York. Jeremy had only been once, so his memory of the town was flawed at best. Taxi cabs and other cars honked and flashed their lights on the street beside them, but they were preoccupied with each other. Holding hands, they watched their breath form clouds in front of them as they walked. Jeremy didn’t know where they were going or where they’d come from, but he figured it didn’t matter. Neither of them said anything. The only part of the dream that didn’t feel as solid as the rest was Michael’s ring finger, which was oddly specific. Jeremy couldn’t tell if he was wearing a ring, and the dream didn’t permit him to look at his own hand. The whole thing was strange. 

Michael stood in the kitchen, biting his lip thoughtfully. He had no idea what to make. He really didn't give a shit what they ate. But that wasn't helpful when he needed to figure out what to cook. He sighed. As much as he wanted to let Jeremy sleep, he also wanted to make something that his boyfriend would actually eat. He shuffled out of the kitchen and back to the living room once more. He knelt down next to Jeremy’s head, unconsciously smiling at his sleeping expression. He was twitching slightly, undoubtedly from a dream, but his face was relaxed still, lips slightly parted. Michael reached over, running his hands through Jeremy's hair. “Jeremy.” He half whispered, trying to coax him awake without startling him.

Jeremy hummed in his sleep, the image of Michael beginning to falter and fade. The sounds of the city were also evaporating into the distance. He didn’t want this to end, but something told him it would be okay if it did. It would happen again sometime, maybe not in a dream. 

“Je-re-my,” Michael hummed in a singsong voice. “Wake up.”

Jeremy shifted, the illusion of New York a distant memory. Entering consciousness, a word fell off his tongue. “Michael?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed,moving his hand from Jeremy's hair to his cheek. “It's-a me.” He said, mimicking the Mario catchphrase, “Michael-o.” He laughed at his own joke.

Jeremy, eyes still closed, tried not to laugh at Michael’s quip. It still came out, however, sounding drunk and drowsy. He moved his arm blindly to try and push Michael playfully. “Nooo.”

“But, yes!” He countered, moving to tug on his ear lightly to tease him. “What do you want for dinner?” 

Jeremy sleepily swatted Michael’s hand away and groaned. “Chicken nuggets?” he asked quietly. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Damn, I don't know why I even woke you up, I should've known,” he laughed. “You’re such a chicken hoe.”

“You know I live off like three foods,” Jeremy defended, finally stretching and opening his eyes. 

Michael didn't move from where he was knelt over him. “Of course I know.” He said, watching Jeremy wake up. Is this what it would be like? In the future, when he would have to wake him up for work or from naps? The thought made his heart jump slightly.

Jeremy groaned again at the popping his back did as he stretched out. “Then make me a plate of nuggets, fool.”

Michael still didn’t move. “You have to give me something first.”

“My soul?” Jeremy squeaked.

Michael rolled his eyes again. “No, you absolute minkus.” He poked him in the cheek (the uninjured one) teasingly. “Kiss.”

“Oh,” Jeremy replied as if he didn’t know any better. He leaned forward to kiss Michael. 

Michael instantly closed his eyes, pressing back into the kiss. He felt the warmth spread from his lips, all throughout his body, down to his toes. He pressed even harder. He hadn't initially intended for it to be this type of kiss– honestly he would've been fine with just a peck– but as soon as Jeremy's lips met his, all of the feelings from earlier came rushing back in a wave, albeit not quite as intense this time. So he had ended up trying to pour his feelings into the kiss; he wanted to try to show the sheer volume of emotion, at the very least. He didn't try to get tongues involved, he didn't need to. He was fairly sure he could get the message across well enough with just this.

Jeremy happily kissed back with the same force as Michael. It instantly woke him up the rest of the way. His blanket fell off as he leaned closer toward Michael, finally pulling away just to say “I love you.”

Michael kissed him again, but this time only for a moment. He pulled back, sighing happily. “Fuck, Jere, Do you think it's possible to die of too much emotion? Because, like, if so then _god damn_ , I’m a fucking _goner_.” He clutched his shirt right where that knot in his chest resided. “Here lies Michael Mell. Died by loving Jeremy Heere.”

Jeremy flopped his sleeve covered arm in Michael’s face. “Don’t say that, Micah. I don’t wanna imagine you gone.” He pouted expertly. 

Michael laughed, pecking his lips in apology. “Sorry. Fuck death, then.” Michael was 75% sure that Jeremy was trying to act cute on purpose. And it was working. It had been less than a week and Jeremy already had Michael wrapped around his little finger. But, then again, when hadn't he?

“By the way,” he started, kissing Jeremy quickly. “I don't know if you've noticed,” another kiss, slightly longer. “But I _really_ enjoy kissing you, and I intend to make up for lost time by doing it,” he switched to quick pecks in between each word. “As.” Kiss. “Much.” Kiss. “As.” Kiss. “Possible.” 

Once he finally got his words out, Michael swooped in one last time. Their mouths collided harshly with a newfound ferocity. He swiped at Jeremy's lips, working his tongue inside to run along roof of Jeremy's mouth before sliding along the inside of his teeth. 

Jeremy shuddered at the feeling. It was hard to act cute and innocent when his boyfriend had his tongue in his mouth. He could only think of one thing that would keep up his act. He whimpered quietly and sucked on whatever tongue or lip he could get to. 

Michael felt a shiver run down his spine, finally pulling away. “Okay, I really need to go make the food before we get sidetracked. But–’’ he stood up, looking down at Jeremy with a smirk. “This isn't over yet.” He winked before hurrying out of the room, back towards the kitchen once again.

Jeremy pouted as Michael left, sinking back into the cushions of the couch. At least he’d be getting nuggets out of this. 

\------------------

Forty minutes later Michael returned, plates in hand. “Honey, I’m home.” He sang, holding one of the plates out to Jeremy. 

“And you have chicken nuggets!” Jeremy exclaimed, sitting up and immediately grabbing the plate. 

Michael laughed, “I do indeed.” he carefully moved the empty strawberry container aside, placing his plate on the table before lifting Jeremy's legs and slipping underneath them. Once he was seated comfortably, Jeremy's legs across his lap, he grabbed his food. “And fries. But I had to make them in the oven, so they're not very crispy, unfortunately.”

“You know I don’t like them crispy,” Jeremy said around a bite of a nugget. He scooted closer to Michael so that more of his thighs were on the other boy’s lap. 

“That's because you're a sad, sad boy.” Michael responded, munching on some fries. He dropped his plate down to rest precariously on Jeremy's knees. He picked at his food with one hand, the other left to rest lightly on Jeremy's mid-thigh. He was quiet for a minute, deep in thought.

Jeremy munched on his food happily and watched Michael. He tried to keep his legs as still as possible so the plate wouldn’t fall. “What are you thinking about?”

Michael hummed thoughtfully, slowly running his hand up and down his boyfriend's thigh to soothe him. “Nothin’, just the future and stuff.”

Jeremy’s smile grew. “What about it?”

Michael gave him a little shrug and smiled softly as he stared off into the distance in thought. “Kids.”

“Just kids in general?” Jeremy inquired. He pursed his lips. 

Michael scoffed, giving Jeremy a sideways glance. “You know I’m not. I'm thinking about–” he paused, face warming. “ _Our_ kids.”

Jeremy grinned. “Yeah? Are they cute? Do they like video games?”

Michael's smile widened. “You tell me. You're the one who said you saw them. Twins, right? Describe them to me.”

“Oh,” Jeremy replied dumbly. He shifted—holding Michael’s plate in place—and sat up a little. “Well, they were adorable, so let’s get that out of the way. Somehow they had your eyes, Michael. It was so cute. The little girl, she just giggled in her crib. Everything was red and blue. The little boy was in red, like you always wear. I think you dressed him. He was hungry. They– Oh, god, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Michael was shaking his head before he even got the question out. He grabbed the plate, setting it out of the way on the table. He wrapped his arms around Jeremy pulling him slightly more into his lap, looking at him with a warm gaze. “Keep going. Please.”

“W-well,” Jeremy started, sinking into Michael’s warm grip. “Their skin was just like yours and it looked so clean and soft. We must have been taking such good care of them. You held them like you’d never seen anything so precious. If you think you love me the most, wait until you see those little faces, Michael. Their giggles were the sweetest sounds I’ve ever imagined that I’ve heard.” He sighed. “We _need_ those tiny Filipino babies, Michael.”

Michael whined lowly in the back of his throat. “Jeremy, if you keep taking my breath away like this I’m gonna start having heart problems or something.” He took a shaky breath. “They sound perfect. Just like you.”

“Trust me, you’d dump me in a heartbeat for those babies. They were beyond perfect. I can’t wait.” Jeremy leaned back into Michael and booped his nose playfully. His plan to be as cute as possible was back in operation. 

Michael let out a breathy laugh. “I'm not sure the babies are very good boyfriend material.” He smirked, leaning closer to Jeremy to speak in a low voice. “Speaking of boyfriend material— I know I said no sex, but if you want, after dinner, I can suck your dick.” He was very straightforward when he knew what he wanted.

Jeremy squeaked and jolted. “W-What?” How had their conversation turned to that? How thirsty was Michael?

Michael grinned. “Hey, look, I’ve kind of had a lot of time to fantasize, I've got some built up shit, alright? And some of it can be resolved with blowjobs, so, y'know,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

Jeremy was physically incapable of refusing. “I-If you want,” he offered. His face felt hot and he could see the blush reach even his hands. He took a few deep breaths to calm down from the surprise. 

Michael kissed him softly, offsetting the mood he had previously created. “Later. Before bed.”

Jeremy gulped. “O-Okay.” Either his cute plan had worked too well, or Michael was desperate for him. 

Michael rolled his eyes slightly. “Also, don't look at me like I'm crazy, I’m not the one who jacks off every morning before school. Just think of it as making up for what you missed last week.” He grinned, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Jeremy felt his face become warmer. “I have a lot of hormones, okay?”

Michael shrugged, sitting back. “I know, Jere.” He sighed, still feeling like he needed to explain himself. “It's just that, now that we're fixed, we don't have to be together all the time anymore. We’ll be able to sleep in our own houses, y’know? We can't keep having sleepovers every night forever. Our parents will say something _eventually_.” he sighed. “I guess I just want to make the most of it. Although, I want to make the most of every second I'm with you, so…”

“You really are a sap, you know that?” Jeremy smiled smugly, leaning back again. Of course what Michael was saying was adorable. It was perfect, really. It was all Jeremy had wanted. And of course he did appreciate it all. The latest gesture was especially sweet. He was just so emotionally drained by that time that all he really felt was tired. He was happy, obviously, now, laying with Michael, having just eaten chicken nuggets—extremely happy. But, he yawned. He was exhausted. 

Michael massaged Jeremy's thigh soothingly. “It's a curse.” He sighed, voice full of faux exasperation. “How are you still tired, you literally _just_ took a nap.” He smirked. “Unless you just want us to go to bed early?”

“No, I’ve just been feeling a _lot_ today, y’know?” Jeremy said, trying not to yawn again. As much as Michael seemed to be building up Jeremy’s excitement for ‘going to bed’ the latter still wanted to spend some time with Michael beforehand. 

Michael laughed softly. “I know, buddy. Hey, do you wanna watch vine compilations for a while?” He offered. As much as he loved being in a relationship with him, he also kind of just wanted to spend a little while doing something that they always did together. “‘ _Stop_ saying I look like chicken little, he's _weak_ and a _coward_ and I am _not_ a coward.’”

Jeremy giggled, blush finally subsiding. “Sure, Micah,” he agreed. He was also in the mood for some familiarity. “‘Myrrh _der_.’”

Michael laughed loudly, bringing a hand up to his forehead dramatically. “‘Judas, _nooo_.’” As fucked up as it is, Michael was actually really glad that they had accidentally drank that disgusting grape mountain dew. If they hadn't, none of this would have happened and he would still be tiredly pining for the rest of his life. Today had been a good day. They had needed one of those.


	41. (please do not fuck that)

The next morning the boys were woken up by Maria. 

“Alright, love birds, up and at 'em, Jeremy has to go home today. His dad called, apparently he has a doctor's appointment tonight.” Maria flicked the light switch on and off harshly. “Wake up, boys!” She chirped, voice upbeat yet commanding. 

Michael groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. “It's a _Sunday_. You can't wake up before 5pm on Sundays.”

Somehow, Jeremy remained fast asleep, using Michael’s shoulder as a pillow. His breaths were shallow but regular. Michael had really tired him out before they’d finally gone to bed. 

From the top of the stairs, Michael’s other mother called down to them. “You can and you will, Michael, now hurry up, please.” Her tone was firm but caring. She disappeared back in the direction of the kitchen. 

Michael sighed and pouted as he removed to blanket from their faces. “Okay, okay, we’re up! You can go back upstairs, we’ll be up there in a minute. Michael rubbed at his eyes tiredly. 

Maria nodded, “If you’re not up in thirty minutes I’m coming back down.” She headed up the stairs to her wife.

Michael grumbled to himself, looking down at Jeremy. He smiled as he took in his sleeping face. He thought it was cute how much getting off had seemed to tire him out last night. “Jere, time to get up.” He coaxed, rubbing his back gently. 

Jeremy hummed, shifting just a bit so that he was higher up on Michael’s chest. He smiled a little, falling back into the deep sleep easily. 

Michael chuckled, lightly patting his cheek. “No, Jeremy, you have to actually wake up,” He tugged on his ear gently. “And stay awake.” Michael's grin faded slightly, mood suddenly dampening. He shifted out from under Jeremy, instead moving to lay on his side so that he could wrap his arms around Jeremy's sleepy form, hugging him tightly. “You have to go home today. We won't be able to wake up together like this for a while.” He muttered mournfully, sighing softly.

Jeremy shuddered at the shift in warmth. He didn’t want to wake up. “Then let’s make the most of it,” he murmured, slurring his words with a thick sleepy tone. He curled his legs in to try and create more warmth. 

Michael sighed wistfully, running his hand through Jeremy's hair. “I wish we could, Miah, but if we don't get up soon my mother is coming back, and when she has to come down the second time, she doesn't leave until you're standing up.” He paused, the hand that wasn't in his hair moving down to rest on his upper thigh. “And you aren't wearing pants.”

Jeremy’s eyes shot open. “Oh, god.” Michael was right. There was indeed a shocking lack of pants covering his legs. “I- Jesus Christ.” He sat up quickly, sleep fading from memory. “Where are my clothes, anyway?”

Michael snickered, sitting up casually. “Dunno. Wasn't really paying attention to them that much.” He stretched before tiredly getting to his feet. 

Jeremy held the blanket around him as he shimmied to his feet as well. His face burned with embarrassment and memories of last night’s events. “What am I supposed to do then?”

Michael rolled his eyes, lightly shoving Jeremy's chest so that he fell back onto to bed. “Calm down, I’ll give you some new clothes.” He made his way over to the dresser, pulling out yet another pair of sweatpants. “Here.” He tossed it to him, turning back to rifle through the dresser for something else. 

Jeremy caught them and quickly put them on, only struggling a little with the blanket in the way. “Jeez.” Michael had really gone the extra mile last night; Jeremy was still wrecked. 

Michael grinned, pulling out a shirt triumphantly. “Here it is.” He turned, striding over to Jeremy once again. “Arms, up.”

Jeremy yawned and rolled his eyes, lifting his arms in compliance. “What shirt is that?”

Michael hummed, dropping the shirt on the bed beside Jeremy before moving his hands to the hem of his shirt, carefully pulling it up and over his head. “The Zelda shirt that you gave me for my birthday two years ago. It’s one of my favorites. I wore it, like, every few days for years, so it's kinda worn out now, sorry.” Michael paused, gently ghosting his fingers down Jeremy's torso– lingering on the bruises slightly. 

Jeremy’s breath hitched as Michael’s fingers brushed against the memories of the past week, set in his skin deeply in a dark brownish purple. “Don’t be sorry for enjoying something I gave you.”

Michael smiled, grabbing the shirt and tugging it over Jeremy's head. He pulled it down carefully, fingers occasionally brushing Jeremy's sides. “I enjoy everything you give me.”

Jeremy smiled once his head was free. “Sap,” he said smugly. “We should get going.” He didn’t want Michael’s mothers walking in again, even if they weren’t currently in the middle of anything. 

Michael nodded, leaning down to peck his boyfriend's lips quickly before straightening back up and taking a step back. “I love you.” He wasn't kidding about telling him at least once every day.

Jeremy once again got to his feet, grinning ear to ear. “I love you, too, Micah.” He really did. 

Michael grinned back, turning away before he did anything else. “Thank God.” He shuffled off to the stairs.

Jeremy scrambled after his boyfriend and up the staircase. “Smells like breakfast,” he observed. 

“Smells like teen depression,” Michael snorted, rounding the corner into the kitchen. “We're up.” He mumbled to his mothers, yawning. 

Jasmine was the first to respond. “Finally,” she said in a somewhat joking tone. “You boys need to learn how to wake up at a reasonable time.”

Jeremy only muttered an apology. 

Maria waved it off, grabbing her mug of tea and sipping on it. “Don't worry about it, honey. It's just that Mikey is going to have to take you home right after you boys finish up eating. Sorry it's so sudden, but we need to take him out on some errands with us.”

Michael groaned, dropping down into his seat with a huff. “Errands? Why do I have to come?” He whined, pouting childishly.

Maria rolled her eyes, moving over and flicking him in the back of the head. “Because I said so.”

Jasmine sipped her coffee as well. “I said so, too.”

Jeremy shrugged and sat down next to Michael. “Guess that’s that.”

“It’s nice to know _someone_ here has respect for the women of the house,” Jasmine commented with only a hint of seriousness. 

Her words made Jeremy laugh, but not because they were funny. It was ironic, nervous laughter. He didn’t _have_ a woman of the house to respect. He knew it wasn’t her intention, but Michael’s mother’s comment made Jeremy feel a little sick. 

Michael glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, subtly moving to bump Jeremy’s knee with his own. “Did you guys have fun yesterday?” He asked, turning back to his mothers. Michael could tell something had been off about Jeremy's laugh, but he didn't want to get into it in front of them, so he was trying to change the subject. 

Maria took the bait– excitedly spouting off every detail of her date with her wife the day before, Jasmine joining in occasionally.

\--------———

After breakfast, Jeremy gathered up all of his overnight things (that he could find, anyway), before he and Michael began the drive back to the Heere residence. Michael had one hand entangled with Jeremy's and the other on the wheel. He gave his boyfriend's hand a light squeeze. “What was up with that laugh earlier, anyway? You sounded nervous.”

Jeremy looked up at Michael. “Huh?” He hadn’t thought Michael had heard it. Should he tell the truth or say it was nothing?

“Earlier, in the kitchen. You sounded off. What's up?” Michael asked, not taking his eyes off of the road.

Jeremy decided on the truth. No more hiding things from Michael. “It’s just...what your mom said,” he tried. “I know she didn’t mean it, but it kinda..sounded...like she was making fun of me. I guess? I can’t really explain it. Nevermind, I’m fine.”

Michael frowned, glancing at him momentarily. “Making fun of you? What do you mean?” Michael wasn't dropping it that easily.

“It’s– I dunno, man, it just sounded like a j-jab at how I don’t really…” Jeremy trailed off, lowering his voice to a mutter. “Have a ‘woman of the house’ to respect.”

Michael's chest twisted painfully. “Hey, no dude, I’m sure that's not what she meant, she would never make fun of you. Especially for that. Besides, it's not your fault she left. She was crazy if she abandoned _you_.” 

Jeremy looked down at his hand, the one Michael wasn’t holding. “You know she did.”

Michael squeezed Jeremy's hand. “That's her loss. Not yours.” He brought their hands up, lightly kissing Jeremy's knuckles. “She doesn't deserve you, anyway.”

“That’s what you always say,” Jeremy mumbled, looking even further away from Michael. 

“That's because it's true! Jeremy, honestly, she thought she would be fine without you in her life? Fine. Fuck that. Forget her. I’ll just have to marry you so that you can have _two_ moms who love you and _aren't_ stupid enough to run out on you.”

Jeremy finally met Michael’s eyes as the other boy glanced at him for a moment. “A-And you can have a dad.” That was the dream, right?

Michael beamed, kissing Jeremy's hand again. “Exactly! It’ll be perfect.”

Jeremy grinned, the nervous feelings washing away with Michael’s excitement. Looking out the window, he saw the familiar scenery of his neighborhood pass by. “Damn,” he cursed. “We’re almost there.”

Michael sighed, pouting suddenly. “I know.” He grumbled bitterly. “I wish you could stay longer, but to be fair I don't think we’ve really been apart at all for the past week. Other than classes.”

“That’s the ideal life,” Jeremy sighed, putting his elbow on the window and resting his head in his hand in disappointment. 

Michael smiled again. “I know, buddy.” It felt like it was no time at all before they were pulling into Jeremy's driveway. Michael put the car in park, sighing heavily. “Well, here we are…”

Jeremy gulped. Nothing about this was making him feel better. “Guess this is goodbye,” he said sadly. The time on the car’s display read 9:32. There was still time to take his medicine, if he hurried this up. But he really didn’t want to. He especially didn’t want to face his father after what he’d walked in on.

Michael frowned, fidgeting with his hands. “...maybe… maybe later tonight I can come over and sneak up to your room?” He really didn't want to sleep by himself. He knew he was going to have to eventually, but he couldn't bring himself to give up their lazy mornings just yet. At least, if it was okay with Jeremy.

“Are you sure, Micah?” Jeremy squeaked. Michael’s offer was risky but so desirable. He never wanted to sleep alone again. He didn’t think he could, anyway, at least not for a while. The new memories of the SQUIP and other stressors were sure to keep him awake all night. 

Michael bit his lip and nodded. “Of course I'm sure. I love waking up to your face. I want it to be the first thing I see everyday.” Michael paused, blushing with a grimace. “That was _really_ sappy.”

“Me too, Michael,” Jeremy said, grinning sadly. “But you have errands for now.” His smile faded.

Michael nodded again, frowning. “You should probably get inside. But, first… kiss?” He asked, timid for some reason. Even though they'd kissed innumerable times in the past few days, he still somewhat felt nervous. 

“Of course,” Jeremy said as his smile came back. He could see a little apprehension in Michael’s eyes. Because of that, he initiated the kiss himself. He leaned over the console and placed his lips on Michael’s, softly at first. 

Michael sighed, immediately melting into the kiss. It began soft and gentle, but inevitably ended up growing more passionate. Jeremy tasted of syrup and warm tea from their breakfast. He pulled back before things could get too intense. “I love you. So damn much. I’ll see you in a little while, yeah?”

Jeremy nodded with sad eyes. “Yeah. Tell your parents thanks for letting me stay over so much this week.” He always felt bad if he didn’t thank Michael’s moms. They deserved it. 

Michael nodded back, biting the inside of his cheek. Why was this so hard? They were going to see each other in a few hours, so why did Michael feel so anxious about this? Michael quickly leaned over to kiss him once more. “Okay, for real, you probably need to go or I might end up kidnapping you.”

Jeremy opened his car door and shrugged. “Maybe you should someday.” He smiled sadly at Michael and stepped out of the car. “See you later?”

Michael nodded, plastering a grin on his face. “Definitely.”

Jeremy went to close the door, but stopped. “Perfect,” he said, winking. He finally slammed the door shut and waved through the car window at Michael. 

Michael waved back, a small blush on his face. He watched Jeremy's retreating form until he disappeared into his house. Michael sighed, putting the car in reverse and begin the drive back home. At least Michael had a chance to go to the store now. Maybe he could get some stuff to surprise Jeremy later. He grinned at the thought.

——————

A couple hours later, Jeremy’s phone rang. It was Rich. Rich never called, only ever texted, so this alone was enough to cause alarm.

Jeremy excused himself from the couch where he’d been awkwardly sitting with his dad, going upstairs to his room before hitting the accept call button. “Rich?”

Rich's voice filtered through the phone speaker, sounding awkward and hurried. “Jeremy! Um, hey! So, uh, I have a bit of, uh, a problem?”

“And you need me?” Jeremy asked in surprise and confusion. What could he do to help Rich? He wasn’t very good at anything Rich couldn’t do himself. “What happened?” 

Rich sounded desperate. “I-I’m sorry.” His lisp was prominent. “I- It's just that I don't know who else to go to, you're one of the only people I trust. It's Steven. He's in trouble.”

Jeremy was silent for a while. “What’s going on? Is it that guy from Friday?” His blood went cold. He couldn’t be the cause of even more pain, and he knew he definitely caused this. He also didn’t question Rich’s trust in him; it would be counterproductive. He didn’t ask why Jake was unavailable. He’d never heard Rich this scared before, except maybe on Halloween. 

“Yes, he- He called him out to the woods for some reason- I mean, _the woods_?! Who _does_ that?— a-and I—” Rich didn't know what to do, he knew whatever was going to happen in those woods definitely was not going to be good.

The woods? That sounded bad. It sounded like more than a fight. “What do you need me to d-do?” Jeremy could tell his anxiety was about to get the best of him, but he tried to keep his voice stable so Rich wouldn’t freak any more than he already was. 

Rich's breathing was becoming increasingly rough. “I– I don't know! I just- Please, can you come with me? I can't- I don't want to go out there alone. I'm sorry for asking you this, Jeremy, I know it's not your fight, but…” he trailed off, sounding defeated.

Jeremy knew it was his fight. He’d angered the guy in 7/11 and caused his further anger by rejecting his brother as Michael. “Can you pick me up?” He didn’t want to say no, even if all his brain cells wanted him to. 

Rich sighed in relief. “Yes! Yes, I can. I’ll be there in 20. Thank you, Jeremy.”


	42. (Please Do Not Fuck Phones)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uh oh

Rich got there in 18 minutes. He scrambled out of his car, rushing to Jeremy's front door and knocking quickly. 

Jeremy thankfully got to the door before his father did. He unlocked it with shaking fingers and pulled it open. “I guess we’re going?” He said as he took in how absolutely wrecked Rich looked. He seemed terrified. It was a new look on him. 

Rich gave him a shaky nod, stepping back to let Jeremy walk back to his car with him. “I'm so sorry for dragging you into this, dude, but Jake is having family problems right now and Mike wouldn't answer his phone— I just- I don't _know_ this guy, I don't know what he's willing to do to get back at my brother.” Rich dragged a hand down his face tiredly. “Apparently this shit goes a lot deeper than the damn 7/11.”

Jeremy was on the other side of the door when he turned around to look back down at Rich. “What do you mean?” His voice cracked, but he didn’t stutter. 

“They're fuck buddies. But apparently Jason is a manipulative fuck and didn't get the memo that fuck buddies only do that. Fuck, that is.”

“Wait-” Jeremy closed the door and took a deep breath. “Your brother and the 7/11 guy...are…” He trailed off, wanting an answer but not wanting to ask the question. Was Rich being literal?

Rich nodded, shuffling towards his car. “They fucked. Multiple times.” Rich scratched his arm anxiously. “B-But it was supposed to be a no strings attached deal, y’know! Steven wasn't- he didn't-” he cut himself off with a sigh.

Jeremy followed him out to his car. “And 7/11 guy attached a string?” he guessed. He wasn’t quite familiar with...fuck buddies. Or how that worked. 

“Yeah. Something like that.” Rich wasn't entirely sure what was going on himself. He only knew the bits and pieces he had managed to pry out of his brother or had overheard. “He's fuckin’ insane.”

“You don’t have to convince me of that,” Jeremy said when they reached the car. He’d seen it firsthand. 

Rich nodded grimly, sliding into the driver’s side. “I hope I'm overreacting.”

Jeremy carefully opened the passenger side door and got in, closing it softly. “I overreact a lot,” was his awkward response. It had just sort of come out. 

Rich laughed a bit, smiling for the first time since he had shown up at Jeremy's doorstep. “I know, dude. Hey, maybe Mike will answer if you try to call? The more people the better, y’know.” He started up the engine. 

“Oh- I can try, yeah, of course,” Jeremy assured, pulling his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it and tapped the phone app, tapping again on the picture of Michael he had in his favorites. He was the only one in Jeremy’s favorites. He put the phone up to his ear and waited. 

\----------------

Michael was currently in the mall with his parents, in the middle of an- in his opinion- totally unnecessary clothes shopping trip. They had insisted that Michael stock up on new pants and sweaters for winter. This had lead to Michael being dragged from store to store, trying on an ungodly amount of different clothes. He did, however, have one thing in mind that he wanted to take care of. He had to ask his mothers for their help- which was horribly mortifying- but it was worth it when he got what he wanted. It was a gift for Jeremy. He hoped his boyfriend would like it.

\---------------

Jeremy hung up the call when Michael’s voicemail played. “He didn’t answer,” he mumbled, confused. Michael always answered him, even if it was 2 in the morning. “Maybe he’s at the movies.” He hoped he was, or that he had a good excuse for ignoring Jeremy. No, that’s not nice. He wasn’t ignoring him, surely. He was just busy, right?

Rich sighed. “Damn. Guess it's just us, then.” And with that, they set off to find Rich's brother. “I overheard him. On the phone. Steven always put it on speaker when he's mad because he likes to pace. Probably our whole neighborhood heard it. That's how I know something is going down in the woods.”

“The woods near the highway? Aren’t they, like, really big?” Jeremy was starting to feel fear in his stomach again. Why had he agreed to this? Because Rich needed somebody? Was that enough to make Jeremy do crazy things? He supposed since Rich had given them the rest of the money he and Michael needed for the yellow Dew, he at least owed him this much. 

Rich nodded. “I know. No one ever goes out there, either.” He grumbled. “Fuck. What has he gotten himself into?”

“Dude,” Jeremy gulped, “we should call the police. They could help!”

Rich shook his head. “What would we say? My brother is have a stupid fucking showdown somewhere in the woods. In New Jersey. I’ve had experience with calling the cops on domestic disturbances. They aren't very helpful.”

Jeremy felt his chest tighten at Rich’s mention of his police experience. He had his own memories of dealings with cops, from when his mother used to threaten his dad all up until the trial where he testified for his father to get full custody. Rich was right—the police really weren’t all that helpful. “Then we just show up to watch? Or get hurt ourselves?” Worry was definitely rising in his voice. 

“I don't know. I'm hoping we won't have anything to watch. God, I hope they're just fucking in the woods or something.”

Jeremy grimaced. Gross. “Right…” He really hoped it was something harmless. 

\----------------

It took them 30 minutes to reach the rough dirt road that lead into the woods. They pulled in, finding two other cars parked in the overgrown clearing. “Fuck. That's definitely his car.”

Jeremy nodded absently, recognizing the car from Friday at school. “So they’re in there somewhere?” he squeaked, still afraid of what could happen. 

Rich nodded, grimacing. I think I know where. There's this little clearing that’s where college kids like to go get drunk and smoke. They're probably there.”

“Right,” Jeremy said, trailing off. “You’re gonna make us go there, aren’t you?”

Rich gave him an apologetic grin. “You can- You can stay here if you really don't want to come.”

“Rich, you shouldn’t go alone. I know I wouldn’t want to.” Jeremy unbuckled his seatbelt. For now, he was going to have to play the supportive friend. 

Rich nodded, giving him a grateful look. “Okay. Well, here we go.” He stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath. “Now or never.”

Jeremy stepped out, too. He really had no clue what he’d agreed to. 

\---------------

Michael felt nauseous. Five hours. It had been five hours since he got home. He had only realized that his phone had been on silent the whole day when he was laying in bed and found that he had multiple missed calls. One from Jeremy and Sixteen from Rich. This instantly had set off red flags, obviously.

He called Jeremy first. No answer. That alone was enough to set Michael on edge. When did Jeremy not answer? He even answered when he was in the middle of jacking off. Something had to be up. Michael really hoped it had nothing to do with Rich. 

Michael tried Jeremy again. Still nothing. Fuck. He tried Rich, who’s most recent missed call had been only twenty minutes ago. He picked up on the first ring. 

“Mi- ael!” 

Michael grimaced at the choppy voice over the receiver. “Rich? Hello? You're cutting out, is something wrong? Where are you?” 

“-ods, J- Help!” Michael's uneasiness increased exponentially. He could barely understand what Rich was saying, but his voice sounded desperate and thin. He sounded afraid.

“Rich, I can't understand you, what are you saying?” Michael was sitting up by now, body tense. Something was definitely up.

“-eremy!”

Michael instantly shot to his feet. “Jeremy? What about him? Did something happen? Is he okay? Rich!”

Michael held his breath as he waited for a response. The line went dead. 

“Damn it!” He growled, trying to call him again. It went to voicemail.

He tried texting.

M: Rich????  
M: hey!! What's going on??  
M: is Jeremy okay?  
M: please

“ _Fuck_.” Michael pulled on his shoes, not even bothering with a jacket as he grabbed his keys and rushed upstairs. Maria saw him as he was storming out the door.

“Hey, what's-”

“I have to go.” Michael slammed the door behind him harshly. He shouldn't be so rude, especially to his mother, but he was panicking. He didn't know what was going on, but he did know Jeremy was definitely involved. 

Michael slid into his car, trying Jeremy's cell once again. Still nothing. Michael groaned in frustration, tossing his phone into the passenger seat. 

He started up the car, heading to Jeremy's place. He prayed he was there.

Michael pulled into the driveway, not even bothering to shut the car off as he slammed it in park and bolted out the door. He stumbled to the front of Jeremy's house, knocking desperately. Please, please let Jeremy be the one to answer. Michael's heart was pounding, his stomach knotted unpleasantly.

The door opened. “Michael?”

Michael's stomach dropped further. “Mr. Heere, where's Jeremy?”

Mr. Heere looked confused. “He went out with the Goranski boy a little while ago. I figured he would've gone back to your place. Is he not? His appointment is in two hours.”

Michael gulped, waving him off. “Ah, uh, I’m s-sure he’s still with Rich. Don't worry, I’ll find them. Michael turned around, scurrying back to his car. “God _Damn_ it.” He didn't know what to do. Were they at Rich’s house? Should he try going there? 

Before he could do anything, his phone rang. He grabbed it instantly. Rich.

“Hello?!”

“Michael! Finally!” Rich's voice sounded much clearer, only vaguely crackling through the phone speaker.

Michael's heart and brain were going a million miles a minute. “Rich, what's going on, where's Jeremy? Where are you?”

Michael heard Rich take a shuddering breath. “I- I asked him to help me, I n-never thought that– Fuck, Michael, I’m sorry.”

Michael felt like screaming. “Sorry? Why are you sorry? _Rich, what the fuck is going on?_ ”

“We can't find him. He got lost, in the woods. I'm sorry, I thought he was right behind me, I'm so sorry, Michael, I—” 

Michael all but shrieked. “ _What!?_ ”

“He-” The call dropped.

Michael snarled, angrily throwing his phone at the passenger seat. “ _Fuck phones!_ ” He couldn't breathe. Jeremy was lost? In the woods? What the _fuck_ happened?


	43. (please do not fuck the woods)

Jeremy’s stomach was reeling with fear. He felt like he could hurl or pass out at any second. Rich led him through the trees—which seemed to get bigger and thicker with every stride Jeremy took. He knew he was beyond red-faced. He was completely pale, so much so that it offered a stark contrast to his normal white-as-a-sheet complexion. His side ached with each step and his hands couldn’t seem to get dry, no matter how many times he wiped them hard against his knee or shirt. The strange sounds of the environment didn’t help. Birds cawing in the distance, leaves rustling too much for the perp to be human, scurrying noises along the ground—they only added to Jeremy’s anxiety. 

He was still willing to help Rich, though. He wasn’t about to back down. Somewhat because he didn’t have the guts to. A little part of him was still a bit afraid of Rich. He didn’t listen to that part often. Rich had helped Jeremy several times after the play incident, and Jeremy got to know the real him. He was still loud and sort of obnoxious, but he was kind, understanding. Jeremy hated how Rich’s SQUIP had taken that away from him. For now, Rich was out of options and needed Jeremy. That was fine, Jeremiah Heere was a master at being the last choice. He swore he’d try to help him even if he had to take a break to throw up. 

They had walked for a long time, Jeremy’s blood cold the whole way, legs numb. It was getting a little dark, but the sun was still out, he knew. It was just the trees getting thicker at the top. It became a little harder to see Rich in front of him, but Jeremy did his best to keep up. Then, he heard something. 

It sounded like a laugh, a human laugh, from his right. “Rich,” he whispered shakily, “I think that glade is over here.” He tugged Rich’s shirt very gently and turned to go off in the direction of the sound, where he hoped Steven and that Jason guy were. 

He thought Rich had heard him. 

Rich huffed as they reached the familiar area that he had visited many times under the guidance of his SQUIP. “They aren't here? What the fuck.” Rich scanned the surrounding area, looking for any indication of other people. When he got no response from Jeremy he turned around. “Jere, you oka-” He was gone. 

————

Jeremy didn’t seem to notice the trees getting closer together as he tried to find the source of the laugh he’d heard. He called out several times, hoping for an answer, but he didn’t hear a single thing that sounded human. “Rich, are you sure they-” Rich wasn’t there. Jeremy whipped around in circles. Rich wasn’t anywhere. “R-Rich?” he called, louder than he’d been shouting for any other people. Shit. No answer. He put his hand to his pocket. Double shit. No phone. He must have left it in the car. This was bad. This was beyond bad. He looked around frantically, but couldn’t remember which direction he’d come from. 

Jeremy started really freaking out. He found himself hyperventilating, knees wobbling with dread. He’d gotten lost in Walmart before. His mother had forgotten he was with her and had gone home without him. Jeremy’s dad came back alone in a frenzy and hugged him, took him for ice cream, hugged him again, and brought him home safely. Now, though, his father had no idea where he was or that he was lost. He had no way of contacting him. 

Who he really needed was Michael. Michael would know what to do. Michael would help him stay calm. He wouldn’t be alone. 

He missed Michael so much. 

What would he say? He’d tell him he loved him, that they’d be okay. He needed to hear that. But would Michael have a plan? Jeremy didn’t know. Maybe they’d end up walking in one direction until they got out of the trees. Was that what you were supposed to do? Or stay put? Which was it? Jeremy’s mind was cluttered with fear and dread. He found himself walking anyway. 

He thought that tree looked familiar, that patch of branches, that squirrel. But everything blended together. He chose to tell himself he was going the right way. 

He was crying, a little, but he managed to stay in a straight line for a while, hoping to exit the woods or find Rich. 

He came across a patch of...bushes? If he could call them that. They looked different, with some sort of berry on them. He decided to go around. 

As he rounded the plants, he thought he heard another voice. He turned around quickly, not noticing his sleeve catch on a sharp part of one of the bushes. He turned back around when he figured he was only hearing things. 

He let out a shriek as the barb from the plant tore his sleeve and cut into his arm. He reflexively yanked his arm away, successfully freeing it from the bush, but tearing his cardigan horribly. What was worse was his arm, which was bleeding with a long cut down it. And it stung like hell. He dropped the cardigan off his shoulders. It fell onto the ground and a few small beads of his blood dropped onto it. 

Fuck the woods. 

Now he really needed to get out fast. 

—————

Michael had eventually gotten through to Rich enough to find out where they had been; the forest path by the highway that only college kids and popular high schoolers ever went down.

Michael drove there– far exceeding the speed limit– as he tried to hold himself together as best he could. His mind was reeling, heart pounding. He couldn't wrap his head around the situation. 

He had seen Jeremy a few more hours ago, and now he was missing? The idea was foreign and strange to Michael. He should be stressed, panicking wildly. But he felt nothing. He felt as though this were nothing but a fucked up dream. 

His brain just wouldn't seem to _accept_ it. Those woods we're massive, if you got lost in them there's no telling how long you would be wandering. Fuck. Michael resisted the urge to punch his steering wheel. Reopening the wounds on his hands would not help things right now.

Michael pulled into the makeshift parking area in the woods- his car coming to a stop next to Rich’s. Who did those other two cars belong to? Michael felt like he vaguely recognized them, but he couldn't pinpoint where from.  
Michael jumped out of his car, not even bothering to remove the keys from the ignition. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to call Rich when a voice rang out from behind him.

“Michael!” It was Rich, hurrying over to him.

Michael turned, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Rich, what the _fuck_ happened? Where is Jeremy?” He paused. “Why the _Fuck_ were you in the _god damn_ woods?!”

Rich gulped, guilt overtaking him. “I- We were- It was my brother. He was- Agh! It’s a long story, we don’t have time for this right now. We need to find Jeremy! He’s out there somewhere and every second we wait the farther away he might be.” Rich grabbed Michael’s arm, tugging him in the direction that he had taken Jeremy. “Fuck, I don’t know where the hell he went!” Rich was absolutely distraught.

Michael blinked in confusion, pulling Rich to a stop. “Wh- Wait, How-” Fuck. He had no idea how this had happened, how was he supposed to help? God. The woods were so big, what if they couldn’t find him? What if he got lost forever and starved to death and died, alone and scared, and without Michael. Oh God, Michael felt nauseous again. 

He shook his head. There was no time for this. He had to start looking, otherwise They definitely wouldn’t find him. But, where was he supposed to start? He sighed, anxiety crawling under his skin. “Show me where you took him.”

Rich nodded, choosing not to comment on Michaels moment of quiet distress. “This way.” They started down the overgrown trail.

\--------------

Jeremy was definitely crying. He was cold, bleeding, lost, anxious as shit, and admittedly a little hungry. He knew Rich had to be looking for him. Right? Maybe he’d called the police after all. Jeremy wouldn’t mind. These woods were enormous, he wasn’t ready to die in them. He kept walking, trying to hold his arm close to his body. He should have kept the cardigan. He could have wrapped it around his cut. Hindsight is 20/20, he guessed. He forced himself to breathe. He wished it wasn’t true, but he could feel that same feeling coming up in the back of his soul. The one that made him apathetic, numb, SQUIP-Jeremy. He couldn’t disassociate now. It wouldn’t do anything. He’d still be lost and hurt. Nonetheless, that awful sensation crawled through his nervous system. 

————-

Michael was hyper focused on the nature around them as Rich led him through the woods, searching for any sign of where Jeremy may have strayed. It was hard due to the darkness created by the overlapping foliage above them. Michael ended up getting his phone out- 50% battery, it would have to do- and using the flashlight so that he could properly see. 

Everything around them looked the same, branches and leaves and weeds creating a knee high wall around the faded walking path. It was ominous, like something you would see in a cheap horror movie, and only served to increase Michael’s uneasiness. About five minutes into the walk, Michael grabbed a hold of Rich’s arm, pulling him to a stop. 

“Rich, wait, look.” He gestured to a disruption in the grass, a gap where it looked like someone had shuffled through fairly recently. “That’s gotta be him, right?”

Rich bit his lip. “Maybe? It’s the best we’ve got.” He started off in the direction of the gap. 

Michael grabbed him again. “Wait, how will we- Won’t we just be lost, too? How will we know how to get back?” Rich held up a finger, reaching into his baggy cargo pants pocket and pulling out a can of spray paint.

"What the fuck,” Michael started to question, but them thought better of it. Less talking, more walking. They set off. Michael prayed to god that Jeremy was okay. He wasn’t prepared for the distant gunshot they heard ring out a few moments later.

Michael froze instantly, terror shooting through his body. That didn’t have anything to do with them, right? They were in America, people went out into the woods to hunt and stuff all the time. Wait. What if they had thought Jeremy was a deer or whatever it was they shot at? What if he had been hit, and now he was hurt and bleeding out and dying and still so terribly alone and Michael was the worse boyfriend/best friend ever to live and he never should have let him go. Michael was dangerously close to actually vomiting. 

\---------------

Jeremy screamed. If he wasn’t afraid before—he was—he definitely was now. Who the fuck was firing a _gun_ out here? Was it Jason and Steven? Had one of them pulled a handgun on the other? Was it a hunter? These woods were illegal to hunt in, Jeremy knew. That still might not stop someone. Either way, someone out there had a gun, and someone could get hurt or killed. He started crying harder, moving as fast as his tired, nervous legs could take him. Where was this adrenaline during the Pacer Test? He told himself he could freak out later, when he was safe and warm and back in Michael’s arms, preferably. However, this just egged the disassociation on. 

—————

Michael crushed down that panic. Focus, Mell. _Focus._ He was moments away from breaking down, to be honest. He had never been in a situation quite as unpredictable as this. The sheer lack of control he had over everything right now- it was terrifying. Nevertheless, they pressed on. 

RIch seemed even more distressed at the sound of the gunshot, that could’ve been two different implications for him. It could’ve been his brother, in serious danger. Or Jeremy, who _he_ had brought out here. Neither option was appealing to him.

They walked in as straight a path as they could, unease welling between the pair of them.Then, Michael saw something, discarded in the leaves. Some blue fabric, horribly familiar. Jeremy’s cardigan. He sped up, not caring if Rich was even aware that he had switched directions. All he could see was the cardigan. He grabbed it desperately, examining it. 

He froze, eyes widening as they landed on the bloodied rip in the fabric. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe, or think. His body felt as though his blood had turned to ice. Oh God. Jeremy. _Where are you?_


	44. (Please Do Not Fuck Cicadas)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhhh

Michael felt unsteady on his feet, suddenly light-headed. This was Jeremy's, without a doubt. He would recognize it anywhere. Which meant that Jeremy was hurt and bleeding. And alone. Michael never wanted Jeremy to ever be alone as long as he lived. Michael had failed at preventing that. And now he was out there, no way to communicate, and Michael was breaking down just from the sight of his abandoned cardigan. He clutched it to his chest desperately, trying to keep his breathing even. His body was trembling. 

Rich, from behind him, hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. “...Mike? You good? What is it?”

Michael turned around, not speaking. He didn't move to let Rich see the cardigan. He gripped it tightly, picking back up on the trail of disrupted grass and broken sticks without a word. He couldn't open his mouth right now. If he did, he would cry. And if he started crying, there was no way he was going to stop anytime soon.

\-------

Jeremy couldn’t help but let that other side of him take over. He was honestly too weak to resist at that point. So, he stopped crying, straightened his back, and kept walking, a new determination in his heart. 

The back of his mind was racing with fear and the dread of this total destruction of his personality, but the apathetic Jeremy shut it off. This Jeremy felt next to nothing, aside from...was that adventurousness? When he was back to normal, he’d hate himself for this. He felt like he was in a video game. The worst part is, his brain told him it was the best kind: one-player. 

———

Michael had eventually choked back the tears, finally able to open his mouth. He had started yelling into the trees desperately, calling out Jeremy’s name in hopes that he would get some kind of response. How long had they been walking? If only Jeremy would stop _moving_ , they would find him so much easier. 

Was Jeremy okay? Was he crying? Was he thinking about Michael? How bad was his injury? Had it been from that gunshot or merely from the barbs that had surrounded the sweater? Michael's throat felt raw. He hadn't yelled this loud in a long time. 

Please, please let him be okay. Michael didn't know what he would do if he wasn't.

\-------

A dead squirrel and a snake later, Jeremy noticed the trees starting to thin out a little bit. It was also much darker. What time was it? Had he missed his doctor’s appointment? Did his father even notice? He sighed. He’d just add it to the list of things to worry about later. 

He came to another patch of those bushes. Having learned from his mistake, he avoided being within two feet of one. He went forward. He was determined to make it out before midnight. He made it his own little mini challenge, like in Apocalypse of the Damned. Jeremy was just a video game character with one life left and draining health. 

——-

Michael was getting progressively more desperate. Every second his stress increased. He wasn't even really paying attention to the ground anymore. Jeremy seemed to be roughly going in a straight line, anyway. Michael hadn't noticed his increasing pace. He was basically running at this point. He had stopped yelling when his voice started giving out.

His hands were clenched so tightly in the blue fabric of Jeremy's cardigan that he was losing feeling in his fingers. He didn't loosen his grip. 

The trees around him we're a blur, he wasn't even sure if Rich was still behind him anymore. He couldn't hear anything above the blood rushing in his ears. He stumbled a couple times, having to catch himself before he fell. He didn't care. All he could think about was Jeremy. 

And then, through the trees ahead of him, he saw it. A glimpse of movement. He slowed to a stop. “J- Jeremy?!” His voice was incredibly rough, and he wasn't sure if it was just his eyes playing tricks on him or not. He tried again, louder. “Jeremy!”

\-----

Was Jeremy having auditory hallucinations? How long had it been? He skidded to a complete halt, his feet sliding in some uncovered mud. The—possible—sound of Michael’s voice washed the anti-Jeremy right off of him, his own personality crashing back in a giant wave. Fear, pain, and all. But also hope. He forced himself to call out. “Michael?!” He didn’t stutter. He didn’t think about how Michael couldn’t possibly be there. All he wanted was to be found. 

Michael's breath stuck in his chest, uncontrollable tears instantly began pouring from his eyes. He hadn't let himself cry before he had found Jeremy. Was it really him? Michael dashed forward, body quaking as he neared the now undeniably Jeremy shaped figure. “J- Jeremy! Oh my G-God!” Michael basically crashed into the smaller boy, both of them falling to the ground. Michael wrapped his arms around Jeremy, quickly flipping their bodies so that he took most of the impact as they slid in the mud and leaves. “Oh my god, Jeremy.” His voice shook horribly, and he probably looked like shit, but he didn't care.

Jeremy began to sob. He didn’t care that he was getting muddy or that Michael was putting a lot of pressure on his cut or that he’d fallen sort of on his bruised side. He only cared that, like fucking always, Michael had come to his rescue. “M-Michael, how– How the f-fuck are you here?!” He didn’t stop hugging him. Relief was the prominent feeling in his heart, now, besides love. 

Michael tried to respond, he really did. But he couldn't get the words out past his desperate gasps and teary sobs. He clutched Jeremy to him like he was the most precious thing in the world- which, to him, he was. It was only now that he had seen Jeremy again that the full effect of his fear and worries were hitting him. He was bawling harder than he had in years. “J- Jer— s- so scared– I-” he gave up trying to speak, instead burying his face in Jeremy's neck.

Jeremy shivered under him, the cold wind hitting his wound where Michael wasn’t. “M-Me too, Micah, but- but you saved me, you a-always save me,” he sobbed. It was true. He hugged Michael tighter, trying to breathe in the comforting smell of his boyfriend. “D-Did you hear th-the gunshot?” He needed to know more about that. Was someone hurt?

Michael just whimpered, pulling his arms back to reveal the bloodied cardigan. “I- I thought– Fuck.” He sniffled loudly, scrubbing at the tears streaming from his eyes. Pull yourself together, Michael. You're not out of the woods yet. Literally. He took a few minutes and a few deep breaths to calm himself down. “J- We need to get the fuck out of these god awful woods.” They could talk when they we back home, safe and together and– “Y-Your arm!”

“I-I caught it on something,” Jeremy explained, suddenly feeling the full pain of the deep cut. “I tore my cardigan,” he added sadly. He didn’t care what they’d do next. He honestly—though it was a bit rude—didn’t care where Rich was. He just wanted to be with Michael, and he’d do whatever Michael said. If it meant going home to his dad dirty and injured, so be it. Hospital? Fine. Michael’s house? Preferred. He’d follow any instruction. 

Michael's chest ached and his throat hurt, and all he wanted was to be in bed with Jeremy right now. But they were still in the middle of the woods. Reunions and crying could wait. Michael choked back the rest of his tears as best he could, slipping the cardigan onto Jeremy's shoulders- careful to avoid the cut on his arm. Then, he turned around, getting into a kneeling position. “Get on. We're getting the hell out of here.” He didn't want to not have some kind of physical reassurance of Jeremy, so piggybacking seemed like the best option.

Jeremy gasped at the sight of his discarded cardigan. That meant Michael had found it and kept it with him. That meant Michael had seen the rip in it and the blood on it. Jeremy didn’t want to think of what Michael could have assumed. He sniffled and did as he was told. There was no time for arguing. He whispered something that honestly felt a little selfish– “Please hurry.”

Michael's chest twisted impossibly further at Jeremy's broken tone. God, how afraid had he been? How _alone_? Michael stood, arms linked underneath Jeremy's legs in order to keep him in place. “Don't worry, Jere. I won't leave you alone again.” He carefully looked around, trying to locate the direction they had come from. Fuck, maybe he should've made sure Rich was with them. He turned the direction opposite that they had fallen in, setting off. He did his best to keep Jeremy from getting too jostled as he hurried back through the woods, hoping to come across Rich at some point.

Jeremy said nothing. He only let out tiny whimpers as Michael’s footsteps caused the headache he hadn’t noticed before to get worse. He hugged Michael as closely as he could, clinging to him with every muscle he had. He didn’t care so much that they were still pretty much lost. He had Michael now and that’s all that mattered to him. He cried into Michael’s shoulder, knowing his boyfriend wouldn’t mind. What a fucking day. 

Michael stumbled blindly, backtracking as best he could. Eventually, he found one of the trees that Rich had marked with a large blue 'X’. Thank God, that meant they could find their way back. He hadn't run into Rich, yet, however, which was mildly worrying. He hoped he had just gone back to the cars once Michael had gotten ahead. He might have texted, or tried to call- Michael didn't bother checking. His first priority was getting Jeremy out of these god forsaken woods. Michael didn't slow down as he whispered soft reassurances to the crying Jeremy. “We're almost out, buddy. It's okay. I got you.”

Jeremy still didn’t say anything, but he held Michael’s neck impossibly tighter. Not enough to choke him, of course, but enough to make his own body even closer to Michael’s, hugged to him like a parasite. His sobs didn’t diminish, but Michael’s words were making him feel better. In fact, his whole being there made him feel better. He hoped for a future where Michael would still always be there. 

Michael never thought he would be so happy to see his stupid PT cruiser. “Jeremy,” he breathed, squeezing his legs slightly. “Look. We're out.” How _long_ had it been? It was dark- the chirping birds long replaced by and croaking of toads and angry hum of cicadas and crickets. Fuck cicadas. He sighed when he spotted Rich, sitting on the hood of his car, looking distraught. Michael absently noted the lack of the other two cars.

Jeremy kept his eyes screwed as shut as he could. He didn’t want to look. He thought if he saw another tree, he’d vomit. “C-can we go h-home?” he croaked, voice hoarse. He just wanted to sleep. It was dark, so it was bedtime. He thought if Michael waited long enough, he could fall asleep right on his back. 

Michael nodded even though Jeremy probably couldn't see. “Yeah, buddy. Of course.” He made his way over to the cars, finally alerting Rich of their presence. 

“Michael! Jeremy! Oh, Thank fucking god, I was so worried! Are you guys okay?” The only time Rich had ever felt guiltier was when he had set to Halloween fire and ended up hurting Jake. “I'm so sorry, holy shit, I'm _so fucking sorry_. I never should have dragged you out here to begin with.” 

Michael moved to the passenger side of his PT Cruiser, carefully untangling Jeremy from his back and shifting him around until he held him securely in his arms, placing him in the seat gently. Michael grabbed his discarded hoodie from the floorboard, draping it over Jeremy like a blanket. He turned to Rich. “It's okay, we’re fine. For the most part. You didn't know this was going to happen, it's not your fault.” Honestly, on a different day, Michael might have blamed Rich for everything, anger boiling in his stomach until he resented the boy. But right now all Michael wanted was to get home with his boyfriend. Safe.

Jeremy curled up under Michael’s hoodie in the seat of the car, feeling incredibly weak. He’d have to reassure Rich another time. Eventually he opened one eye and croaked toward Michael. “M-My phone, it’s i-in Rich’s car s-still.” How selfish of him. But he needed it. It was his way to contact his dad. Had his father even cared? Had it been long enough to overlap his appointment? He didn’t dare look at the time. He was too afraid to know how long he was out there, hurt and helpless. 

Rich straightened up at Jeremy's words, pulling a device out of his pocket. “I have it. I found it when I was-- I found it earlier.” 

Michael accepted it gratefully, reflexively clicking the button and checking the notifications. He winced. There were 51 missed calls, all from his dad. That couldn't be good. Michael knew he better get Jeremy home before his dad called the cops– if he hadn't already. “Damn. We have to go, Rich. See you at school, yeah?” Michael didn't mention that they probably weren't going tomorrow. Worst comes to worst they would probably just skip. 

Rich nodded, still looking upset. “Okay.” He mumbled, taking a shaky breath. This must've shaken him pretty badly, too.

Michael closed the passenger door and then scurried around to the drivers side, getting in and handing Jeremy his phone.”Let's get the hell out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, upsettingly enough, this fic might finally be coming to an end soon!! Not yet, but we probably only have a handful of chapters left to add I don't know what we'll do when it's over!! Die, probably. -sux


	45. (please do not fuck marriages)

A few minutes of deep breathing and wiping tears from his face—his hands had blood on them from his arm, but he didn’t care—Jeremy finally unlocked his phone. He still didn’t look at the time. He wasn’t ready to know. Three recent missed calls added to the collection, making it 54 from his father. He couldn’t bring himself to call him back. “M-Michael?” he forced out of his sore throat. 

Michael reached over, offering a hand to Jeremy. “What is it, Miah?” He spoke softly, voice careful and kind.

Jeremy put a shaky hand in Michael’s, squeezing tightly. “Th-thanks for coming, Micah,” he whispered. 

Michael gave him a soft glance. “Of course. I’ll always come.” He laced their fingers, bringing Jeremy's hand to his lips and kissing each knuckle. “Always.”

Jeremy closed his eyes again, living in the moment. Then, he thought of a question he really needed to ask. “D-Do you think Rich’s b-brother is okay?”

Michael grimaced, thinking it over. “Well, his car was gone so he had to be okay enough to drive. He's probably fine.” He hoped. He didn't know the guy, but he didn't seem like someone who deserved something bad to happen like that. Michael wanted to talk to Jeremy more about what had happened, but he didn't think he could handle the conversation while driving. It would have to wait. “What do you think your dad is gonna say?”

“Oh god,” Jeremy whined, “my _dad_.” He covered his face with Michael’s hoodie. “He’s gonna f-freak out.” Maybe he already was. He had called 54 times, after all. Had he called the police? Jeremy hoped not. 

Michael squeezed Jeremy's hand. “Probably. But I'm sure he'll be fine as long as you're okay. Which you are… right?” Michael shifted anxiously. 

Jeremy felt nauseated again. “I-I don’t know,” he admitted. He hadn’t actually looked at his arm to see how bad the cut was, and he didn’t want to think of himself as traumatized. 

Michael grimaced. “I’ll make sure you're okay.” He wasn't sure what kind of a reassurance that was, or if it was even helpful, but it was all he could manage. “Don't worry. I’ll take care of you.”

“Y-You always do,” Jeremy managed, nodding underneath the fabric. He trusted Michael completely. He hadn’t had a reason not to. Ever. 

Michael nodded. “And I always will.” Even if it meant walking into Jeremy's house and having an in depth conversation with his dad about what had happened and where they had been. That was gonna be fun.

\------------

They pulled into Jeremy's driveway. Every light in the house was on, it looked like a beacon of worry shining in the darkness. Like a lighthouse, beckoning them. Michael sighed, turning to Jeremy. “You good?”

Jeremy nodded, squeaking a little. He didn’t want to face his father after what he’d put him through. And honestly he wanted Michael to carry him. He didn’t think his legs could support any of his weight at the moment. 

Michael, fortunately, had the same idea. “It’ll be okay. I'm right here.” Michael kissed Jeremy's wrist tenderly before unbuckling and getting out, making his way over to the passenger side and pulling the door open. He unbuckled Jeremy, carefully gathering him into his arms- along with his jacket which still covered him. “Is this okay?”

Jeremy hugged himself to Michael closely. He whimpered an affirmative answer. Michael felt so warm. Jeremy could fall asleep right there in his arms. 

Michael bumped his hip against the car door to close it, carefully making his way up to the front door. He took a deep breath. “Well, here we go.” He used his foot the kick the door in a makeshift knock. It opened instantly.

Mr. Heere stood in the doorway, appearance dishevelled and face distressed. “Jeremiah! Oh my god! Where have you two been, why haven't you picked up the phone?” he stepped back, hands on his hips authoritatively. 

Michael hesitantly stepped into the light of the house, fully revealing their dirtied states. Mr. Heere’s eyes widened. “What's going _on_?”

Jeremy pried an arm off of Michael’s neck and waved weakly at his father. He didn’t really know the answer to the question that was all but shouted at him. “H-Hi, dad,” he said instead. 

Mr. Heere straightened up. “Don't 'hi dad’ me, young man, I've been worried sick! I almost called the police! The only thing stopping me was that I knew Mic— _Is that blood?!_ ” 

Michael cracked a weak smile, shrugging slightly. “Uh, we- we were helping out a friend. Um. I'm sorry for all the worry, Mr. Heere, but I don't think we can really talk about it right now. Is it okay if this conversation waits until the morning?” Michael was trying to be as polite as possible, obviously, but he really didn't want to talk to parents right now. He wasn't sure he was stable enough to discuss it with Jeremy, let alone his father. And Jeremy himself wasn't in a much better state, either.

Mr. Heere crossed his arms. “Your Mothers have been worried, too, y’know. You boys aren't good for us old folks’ health. Bad for our hearts. We aren't all as lively as you kids, y’know.” He paused, stern front cracking at the desperate looks on both boys’ faces. “But, I guess, as long as the two of you are safe, talking can wait. Michael, I’ll call your mothers and tell them you're here.” 

Jeremy put his arm back around Michael’s neck. “Mikey, can we go to bed?” he whispered, head against Michael’s chest. He shut his eyes. He wasn’t ready to do this. If he could sleep, maybe he’d be ready tomorrow. He didn’t want to think about his arm or school the next day. 

Michael stepped around Mr. Heere, nodding gratefully. He started down the hall, up the stairs and towards the bathroom. “Not yet, Jerm. We have to get cleaned up first.” They were covered in dry mud, sweat, and blood. There was no way they could comfortably sleep in their current states. 

Jeremy only whimpered, already forgetting his dad was right downstairs. He was completely exhausted. All he wanted was to stay with Michael. He hoped all of this was just a dream. 

Michael shouldered his way into the bathroom, gently setting Jeremy down to sit on the toilet lid. He turned to the bath, running the water until it reached a comfortable temperature and then leaving it to fill the tub. He moved back very to Jeremy, kneeling in front of him. “Do you want to do it yourself, or do you want me to stay?”

Jeremy’s eyes shot open. “P-Please don’t leave me, _please_ ,” he pleaded. He held his uninjured arm out to grab at Michael as if it would keep him there. He felt like he would die if Michael was gone. No exaggeration. 

Michael choked back the lump in his throat at Jeremy's desperate words, nodding. “Okay,” he whispered. “I won't.” He moved closer, kissing him softly in reassurance before pulling back, hands dropping to remove the jacket that had remained draped over Jeremy. He tossed it onto the sink counter, turning back to carefully peel off Jeremy’s dirtied cardigan and t-shirt. Once Jeremy’s upper half was completely bare, Michael quickly freed himself of his own shirt, dropping it onto the pile of mud-caked fabric. 

Jeremy shivered. “‘S cold, Micah,” he complained. He held his injured arm close to his body. He barely moved, afraid he might scare Michael away somehow. 

Michael turned to respond, having to pause as he looked at Jeremy. He was sitting there, curled in on himself, looking up at him with eyes so desperate that it reminded Michael of an abandoned animal. It broke his heart. “I know, Miah.” Michael quickly shut the water off before the bath became too full, grabbing two towels off the the shelf and placing them on the floor beside where Jeremy was seated. “I need you to stand up for me, love.” Michael felt so terribly small. He couldn't take away the fear or worry that Jeremy was feeling right now, not in the way he normally did. 

Jeremy gulped and held onto the wall as he tried to get to his feet. He almost fell, but Michael was there. He was always there. Jeremy finally stood, legs wobbling, head swimming. He looked at his boyfriend and tried to smile. 

Michael smiled back reassuringly, holding Jeremy steady. He quickly stripped both of them of their remaining clothing, stepping into the warm bath water and carefully helping Jeremy in. He settled with his back against the side of the tub, Jeremy sat in between his legs. The tub wasn't quite big enough, so Michael's knees were bent at an odd angle, but he didn't care. “I love you.” He muttered, wrapping his arms around Jeremy's shoulders and pulling his back to press against his chest.

Jeremy moved his hands around in the water. “W-Warm,” he observed. He didn’t feel the awkwardness he should have been. He was just dazed and frankly glad as hell that Michael was here. He couldn’t stop thinking that. It was all his mind wanted to focus on. He figured if it helped him, it was fine. 

Michael hummed, grabbing the rag that had been placed on the edge of the tub, wetting it and lathering it with soap. He began methodically washing off Jeremy's torso- being especially gentle around the bruised areas- until all of the dried mud and residue of the woods had been washed away. He avoided Jeremy’s injured arm, he would clean that last. “Do you want me to wash your hair too?”

Jeremy shrugged, still playing around in the now dirty water. “I-If you want,” he said weakly. His hair probably needed it. It was nappy and wet. 

Michael hummed, examining Jeremy’s hair. He brought his hands up to run through it carefully, massaging Jeremy’s scalp. “I think it's okay for now. Besides, the water’s all dirty, anyway.” Honestly his hair would probably end up worse off if he tried to use this water. Right now he needed to get Jeremy's arm better. He stood, coaxing Jeremy to his feet with him as he reached over and grabbed one of the towels, wrapping it around Jeremy's body. “Feeling any better?” Cleaning off all the muck was generally a very good way to start forgetting about what had happened.

Once on his feet, Jeremy spoke again. “A-A little bit, yeah.” He tried again to smile, his lips curving up shakily into a forced U. He wouldn’t let himself cry again, not tonight. 

Michael helped him out of the tub and back so that he sat on the lid of the toilet once more. Michael grabbed the other towel, securing it around his waist before reaching over and retrieving his hoodie. He silently pulled it onto the smaller boy, zipping him up securely. He pulled the plug so that the bath water began to drain. Then, he shuffled over to the sink, bending down to rifle through the cabinet until he found the first-aid kit. “Do you wanna do this here, or your room?” He spoke softly. He wanted Jeremy to be as comfortable as possible right now.

“C-can we go to my room?” He wanted to be more comfortable for this. He didn’t know what Michael would end up having to do. Plus, he planned on going right to sleep afterwards. 

Michael nodded, handing Jeremy the first-aid kit. Once he held it, Michael went over to the bathroom door, unlocking it and opening it slightly. Then he moved back to Jeremy, lifting him up into his arms once again. Luckily, Jeremy's bedroom door had been left open, making it easy for Michael to wander in, kicking the door shut behind him. He made his way over to the bed, setting down his boyfriend and taking the first-aid kit back from him. He got down in his knees so that he sat on the floor in front of Jeremy, gingerly taking his injured arm and pushing the sleeve of the hoodie up.

Jeremy winced as the fabric brushed against his cut. He couldn’t help but let out a small whimper. “I-Is it bad?” He still wouldn’t look at it. The tear in his cardigan looked big. The cut must have been, too. 

Michael bit his lip harshly as he really examined the injury. It wasn't deep enough to need stitches, thankfully, but it spanned along the majority of Jeremy's inner arm. It wasn't so much one big cut, but rather a lot of small thin cuts that had been grouped together to effectively shred the skin. Brambles. Michael had experience with these kinds of injuries; they had been reckless children. He also know that the disinfectant process hurt like _hell_. “It's not so bad. Just need to disinfect and wrap it and you'll be good to go.” He sighed, flipping open the lid of the medical kit. He located the small bottle or rubbing alcohol, hesitating slightly. He grabbed Jeremy's unoccupied hand, lacing their fingers together tightly. Jeremy's arm was currently resting on his lap, which was covered in a towel, so all he needed to do was pour it on his arm. “Jere,” he started, trying to get him to meet his gaze. “This is gonna suck pretty bad.”

Jeremy put on another fake smile. “I-I’ve been through a lot lately, I-I think I can handle it. D-Do your worst.” He was still shaking. The cold air of his bedroom hitting his arm made it sting a little more. He eyed the alcohol bottle, psyching himself up for what he knew would hurt. 

Michael grimaced, gritting his teeth. He hated that fake smile. He knew Jeremy was just trying to make him feel better, but he didn't want him putting on a happy face unless he meant it. He sighed, holding the bottle over the cut. “I'm sorry, Jere.” He poured it quickly, moving down his arm to get it all in one go.

For a second, it just felt cold. Then, the reality set in. It was excruciating. Jeremy couldn’t tell if he really screamed or if he hallucinated it in a pain fueled fantasy. He found himself breathing hard and labored, gripping the bed sheets tightly enough to create fingernail creases. He groaned through his grit teeth with every deep breath, eyes screwed closed. 

Michael wasn't faring much better. He had instantly dropped the alcohol, Jeremy’s pained sounds piercing right through his heart. He bit down on his hand, almost hard enough to draw blood, in order to stop himself from moving. His heart felt like it had been thrown in a damn blender. His eyes welled with tears that may or may not have been shed; Michael wasn't paying attention. He moved quickly, grabbing the gauze and spreading it over Jeremy's arm before wrapping it in a bandage tightly enough to provide the needed pressure but not press painfully into the tender skin. As soon as he was finished he was on the bed, Jeremy in his arms as he whispered soft reassurances and comfort. “It's okay, you did it. It's over. You made it.” He hushed his distressed whispers softly, running his fingers through Jeremy's hair to provide some form of comfort.

Jeremy kept his eyes closed, tears of pain squeezing out of them. “I-It still hu-hurts, Micah,” he whimpered like a small child. Michael’s hand in his hair was helping, though, and so was being so close to him. Jeremy never would get over how calming Michael’s presence could be. He hoped they stayed in that ‘Puppy Love’ stage for a long time. He couldn’t see himself not loving Michael this much in the future, only even more. 

Michael rocked them back and forth and he hugged Jeremy to his chest. “I know, Miah. I'm sorry.” He hushed his whimpers, soothing him as best he could until the sounds of pain died out to nothing. Michael sighed, glad all of this was finally coming to an end. “Hey, Jerm,” he whispered, moving his hand from Jeremy's hair down to his back.

Jeremy had willed himself into not crying anymore. The pain had subsided eventually. He looked up at Michael, gratefulness in his eyes. “H-hey, Micah,” he said back, for lack of a better response. 

Michael's lips quirked as he buried his nose in the other boy’s hair. “Look in the pocket of my jacket.” He instructed, inhaling the soothing scent of his boyfriend.

“Okay,” Jeremy muttered, reaching his unwrapped arm around and into the pocket of the hoodie he was wearing. A small box was inside. He pulled it out, confused. “T-this?”

Michael didn't have to look up to confirm. “Mhm. Open it.” Michael's eyes were closed. He should probably feel nervous about this, all things considered, but he just felt peaceful.

Jeremy pulled it closer to himself. “Hm,” he hummed. He lifted the lid gently, exposing its contents. “I-” Jeremy was speechless. “Is this w-what I think it is?” he squeaked. 

Michael hummed, finally pulling back. He bent so that he could meet Jeremy's gaze, keeping the eye contact as he spoke. “It's not a promise of marriage. Fuck marriage. It's a promise that I'll always love you. And that, as long as you want, I’ll be there for you. However you want. I'm yours.”

Jeremy felt the tears coming back. “M-Michael, this is- I- god, Mike-” He disregarded his numbing arm and pulled Michael into yet another hug of the night. He wrapped his arms around his neck, hugging with his whole body. He hoped the gesture would indicate to Michael how happy he was. The ring was perfect. Michael was perfect. 

Michael chuckled, wrapping his arms around Jeremy's waist. “Yeah.” He agreed, nuzzling into Jeremy's neck. “Me too.” He didn't tell Jeremy about the second ring he had- the one that he _did_ intend to use when the day came that he wanted to propose. That was for another day. He was just glad the they were here now, together. That was all Michael needed. “Love you.”

Jeremy buried his face in Michael’s shoulder. “I love you so much,” he said, not even stuttering once. “You didn’t even have to sneak in tonight after all,” he joked, trying to laugh. 

Michael laughed as well, carefully shifting them so that they could lay down. “Yeah, well, I think it's bedtime, buddy.” 

Jeremy laid his head on Michael’s chest, the ring snug on his finger. “Finally,” he breathed. “C-Can I just say–” He paused, preparing. “Can I just say that you’re my favorite? I-I say that a lot, but, I want you to hear it now. H-Home doesn’t have a set of keys, it has a heartbeat. Home is you, Michael.”

Michael beamed, eyes closed, squeezing Jeremy against him. “Damn,” he breathed. “Guess I'll just have to stay with you forever then, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys it's been a long run, but.. I think this is it!! This is the last chapter!!!! Not completely, we're going to have a couple epilogue chapters, (and possibly a sequel!) But, as for this, right now, they're done! Stay tuned for the future ;) we still have a couple things to wrap up. -sux


	46. Epilogue: (Please Do Not Fuck The School System)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!!

Jeremy’s eyes opened slowly as the light came through the window. He sighed breathily, the air from his mouth chilly. His head didn’t hurt this morning, which was promising. He figured it was about time to get up, so there was no sense laying in the warm bed just to be coaxed back into indefinite slumber by his boyfriend’s warm arms. Pushing the blankets off of himself and standing up, he stretched, his back giving a satisfying pop. He’d gotten used to waking up earlier; it was easier for him now. 

He watched Michael sleeping on the bed, smiling at the memory of how it used to be the other way around. It still was, on days they didn’t need to get up early, but today was special. 

He sat back down beside Michael, hand on his shoulder, shaking him softly. “Babe, we need to get up,” he whispered. “First day of our senior year, we can’t miss this.” Jeremy was excited. He’d picked Drama as a full class this year, and he had miraculously made it into Art II with Michael. The night before, they’d gone to the school to paint Michael’s senior parking space. Jeremy had just come home with Michael instead of going back to his own house. It was a regular thing, now, doing that. Their parents hardly minded. 

Michael grumbled, cracking open an eye to stare hazily up at Jeremy. “Gross,” he pouted. He had been having such a nice dream, too. To bad he’d already forgotten what had happened. “School is f’r chumps.” He slurred, yawning.

“And we’re the biggest chumps in New Jersey, Michael,” Jeremy replied, pulling the blanket off his boyfriend to urge him to get up. “C’mon, I bet your moms made a special breakfast.”

Michael grumbled as the blankets were removed. “How cruel.” He sat up, running a hand through his hair to try and tame it. “Why can't you be the tired one still? That was much more fun.”

“I was the tired one yesterday,” Jeremy said, placing a peck on Michael’s lips. “It’s your turn.”

Michael snorted, quirking an eyebrow at Jeremy. “Yeah, tired for about thirty minutes before you jumped on my d—”

Jeremy didn’t blush. Instead, he rolled his eyes, for he was used to this now. He still cut Michael off, however. “Oh, shut up, you loved it.”

Michael laughed loudly, draping himself over Jeremy's back. “Yeah.” He all but purred. “I did.” His hands snaked under Jeremy's shirt.

Jeremy shivered at the coldness on his skin. “Are we doing this or eating breakfast?” Honestly, he was down for either. 

Michael smirked. “Well,” his hand crept towards Jeremy's waist band as he moved in, leaning closer the Jeremy’s face, only centimeters away from their lips touching. “Since you offered–”  
“Boys! Breakfast! Time to get up!” 

Jeremy playfully pushed Michael back. “Some other time, then.” He laughed. “Let’s go eat. I’d kill for a pancake.”

Michael fell back onto the bed with a huff. Great timing, mom. He stretched before sitting up once again, stumbling to his feet. “Fine, breakfast it is, then!” He grinned, leaning down to peck Jeremy’s lips. “Love you.” He still made sure to tell him that every day, even if they had been dating for months now.

Jeremy grinned. “Love you, too, babe,” he said as he stood up, using Michael’s shoulder to gain stability. “I’ll race you up the stairs.”

Michael grabbed his glasses, instantly bolting to the stairs. “Loser has to explain to the moms why there are dried paint hand prints all over my pants from last night!”

Jeremy’s grin didn’t fade. “You’re on.” He’d recently started jogging—nothing big, just three days a week, he’d jog a few blocks. It was peaceful and kept his stamina up. He sprinted to the stairs and caught up with Michael in no time, going up two steps at a time. 

Michael laughed as the clambered up the steps and out into the kitchen. Maria shared a smile with Jasmine as the boys scrambled into the room. “You two never change, do you?”

Jeremy used Maria’s distraction as a way to move just enough ahead so that he could touch the edge of the table before Michael could. Sighing triumphantly, he smiled at Michael’s mother. “Wouldn’t be much fun if we did.”

Michael groaned, flopping down into his seat. He looked at Jeremy, eyes pleading. “Do I have to?” 

“You made the rules,” Jeremy said, winking at him. 

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “What’s this about?”

Michael pouted, sighing. “I got paint all over my new pants last night because Jeremy grabbed my ass while making out and his hands were covered in paint.” May as well be honest.

Jeremy hadn’t expected Michael to be quite so blunt. He froze, blinking quickly. 

Jasmine set her cup down. “Excuse me?” She looked at Jeremy, then back at her son. “Your new– Those were expensive, Michael, you’re going to get every bit of that paint out of them, okay?” She really wasn’t asking. 

Michael beamed giving her a thumbs up. “Whatever you say, Madré.” 

Maria snickered into her tea. Teenagers.

Jeremy let himself breathe once he knew Michael’s moms weren’t angry. He grabbed a biscuit from the middle of the table and put it on the plate that was already waiting for him. “Are there–”

“Pancakes are on the stove, honey,” Jasmine informed, picking her mug up once again. 

Maria hummed, checking the time on her watch. “We better get going soon. Jas, you ready?” At her nod, Maria turned back to the boys. “Alright, well, be good, you two. Don't forget to lock the door. Have a good day.” Maria gave Michael a quick kiss on the forehead. “Don't be late.” She moved over to give Jeremy a quick kiss as well. “Call if you decide to stay at Jeremy's after school.”

Jeremy gave Maria a thumbs up and a lopsided grin. The day was already starting off to be great. He watched as both of Michael’s moms went through the door, waiting until the sound of the door closing. “I say this a lot,” Jeremy said, “but I love your moms.”

Michael grinned, eyes shining. “Good, because one day they're gonna be your moms, too.” He leaned over to kiss Jeremy's cheek softly. “They pretty much already are, honestly.” 

Jeremy nodded enthusiastically. “Perfect.” He stood up to find the pancakes he was promised. They were on the stove, as he was told. He got a few, and then remembered something. “Oh,” he muttered. He turned to his left and opened a cabinet. Inside was the stash of his prescription pills that his father had sent over to Michael’s house in bulk for times like these. He grabbed the day’s dose and came back to his seat. “Now it’s breakfast.”

Michael gave him a dopey smile. “Senior year. One year closer to being adults.” he grabbed Jeremy's hand, kissing his finger where the ever present silver ring rested. “One year closed to dogs and twins.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “God, I don’t want to grow up,” he said. “But,” he added, “I’ll tolerate it since I’ll be with you.” He squeezed Michael’s hand. After everything they’d been through, they’d always be together. That’s what Michael had promised months ago. That’s what Jeremy’s ring meant. He hated taking it off, even if he was just taking a shower. It was a reminder of Michael, not that he needed reminding, of course. 

Michael chuckled, finally turning back to the food spread out on the table. “We should probably hurry up so we have time to get ready.” 

“Micah, trust me, we’re not gonna be late. I did the math. We have 20 minutes to eat and another 15 to get ready before we need to leave.” Jeremy was talking around a mouthful of pancake. “I’m totally organized!”

Michael snorted, rolling his eyes. “Name one time things have gone according to plan for us.”

Jeremy swallowed his food. “Uh,” he pondered, “this time it will! Foolproof.” He nodded in satisfaction with his plan. 

Michael hummed as he shrugged to himself. “Whatever you say, buddy.”

Jeremy gasped in faux offense. “ _Buddy_? You downgraded me to buddy?”

Michael snorted, sticking his tongue out at Jeremy. “Buddy, babe, boyf– same thing, really, isn't it?”

“Not to my sensitive heart,” Jeremy pouted. He put on his best sad face. 

Michael chuckled again, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on Jeremy's lips. He tasted like syrup. “My sweet prince,” he kissed him again. “Better get to eating if he wants his plan to work out.”

“I am,” Jeremy mumbled, only blushing a little. Michael proved himself to be superior at the pet name game long ago. Jeremy was forced to suffer. He shoved another pancake into his mouth and looked at his boyfriend for approval. 

Michael hummed, eyes drifting back to his food as he munched on his biscuit. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll have to cover you in syrup and lick it off.”

“Nothing you haven’t done before,” Jeremy said cheekily once he got the pancake down. He added a wink and hoped Michael saw it. 

“Don't tempt me, Heere. We have a schedule to maintain.”

“Hmph,” Jeremy huffed. He returned to eating. Their first day of their last year of high school was going to be perfect, he was certain. 

Michael idly gathered some syrup on his thumb, leaning over to swipe it across Jeremy's bottom lip before licking the rest off on his finger. “It’ll just have to wait ‘till after school.”

Jeremy whined, sticking his tongue out to clean his lip of the sticky sauce. He did it slowly, keeping eye contact with Michael until it was all gone. 

Michael's eyes narrowed as he watched, contemplating the consequences he would have to deal with if he _were_ to jump Jeremy right here and now. He stood from the table, an easy grin on his face. “Hmm, sorry, looks like our breakfast time is up. Gotta go get ready for the first day of senior year! Wouldn't want to be late.”

Jeremy smirked. He knew Michael was thinking about tackling him. That was all he wanted; because now, Michael would be thinking about it all day, increasing the chance of it happening after school. He stood up and moved his dishes to the sink. “We won’t be late,” he said. “Trust my system.”

\------------------

Michael was, honestly, surprised. They managed to make it to the school with time to spare. “Wow, we actually aren't late,” He observed. “Nice.”

Jeremy nodded smugly, eyes closed. “I told you so,” he said. “Trust my system.” He opened his eyes and the car door, eager to walk inside for the first time in his life. Well, not counting the times he had the SQUIP. He and Michael barely talked about that anymore, but they didn’t avoid it. They considered it healthy to be able to discuss those things. 

Michael smiled as Jeremy hopped out of the car. Someone was excited. Michael followed suit, grabbing their backpacks out of the back seat. “You’re certainly in a good mood.” He handed him his bag. 

Jeremy tossed his backpack on his shoulder and grabbed the other strap to secure it on both. “It’s the first day,” he explained, “nothing to worry about yet.” He hoped. Once he had a pop quiz on the first day of school. 

Michael laughed. “Yeah, fair enough. What's your first period? I think I have English. Or spanish, maybe? I have a language.”

“Real specific. I think I have some kind of math. That’s a language, isn’t it?” Jeremy fished around for his schedule, which he’d stuffed into the side pocket of his backpack. 

“Pretty much, yeah.” Michael didn't know where his schedule was. He didn't bother looking. He just watched Jeremy search for his. “How many classes do we have together, do you think?”

“I know we have Art II together! So at least one! That’s second this year!” Jeremy pointed to the words on the page once he found it. 

Michael grinned at Jeremy's child-like excitement. “Nice, my Jeremy portrait collection continues to grow!”

Jeremy thought back to that assignment last school year. He’d gotten a decent grade on it, although his sketch of Michael looked more like abstract than realism. “Great,” he said. “And I’ve got drama last period! What a way to end the day, huh?” 

Michael hummed, grabbing Jeremy's free hand and leading them towards the front doors of the School. “Yeah, all those dramatic plays,” he teased, smirking. “Imagine all the kissing scenes you're gonna get. All those girls, every time you perform; Nice.” Michael liked to tease him about his stage kisses because, while Jeremy was a good actor, Michael could tell he was always slightly uncomfortable whenever he had to do it. 

Jeremy tried to hide his blush. “I can only do it when I imagine you, you know,” he mumbled. He wished Michael had gotten a new locker, but he was still stuck next to Rich and Jake. 

Michael bumped his shoulder into Jeremy's as they walked. “Sounds pretty gay. Yep, I approve.” Michael hadn't actually known that. It was cute. He also had something he hadn't told Jeremy about his schedule. He contemplated whether or not leave it as a surprise. Not to mention he had a second surprise that should be ready by that afternoon. Maybe he could pick it up in time.

Jeremy bumped Michael back, laughing. As they got to a less crowded area, he pulled Michael down to kiss him softly. “That’s how I do it,” he explained. He grinned up at his boyfriend. 

Michael huffed out a laugh, untangling their fingers to wrap an arm around Jeremy's shoulder. “Mhmm.” He thought surprise was the way to go. It had been a while since he surprised Jeremy. He checked the time. They had a about a minute before the bell. He pecked Jeremy’s cheek before pulling away. “So, that's at least two classes we have together. We better get going, the bell’s about to ring. Have a good day, I love you.” He started off down the hall before Jeremy could process his words.

“Love you– wait, two?” But Michael was gone. Jeremy thought it must have been a mistake. He shrugged and looked down at his first class’s room number. It was pretty far. Great. He set off on his way. 

\---------- 

The day went by quickly, mostly just introductions and syllabus’ being passed out and then sitting there on their phones. Luckily, Michael had an online class for his fifth period, which meant he had 45 minutes of free time today. Which was, coincidentally, enough time for his to sneak out of the school, pick up his surprise for Jeremy, and get back in time to get to class early. 

Jeremy had had a pretty killer first day. No pop quiz, no worksheets, no stress. All he had left was drama, which he was super excited about. He walked there alone, since no one in his fifth period had it with him. When he arrived, he found a crowd of people standing around...something. He tried to see what it was. “Guys?” he asked in order to make his presence clear. “Christine? What’s happening?” He thought she of all people would know, but she didn’t answer. 

Michael, upon hearing Jeremy’s questioning voice, grabbed the… surprise from where Christine had been excitedly messing with it. He put it in his lap so that it was hidden from people's view, much to the despair of others. “Jeremy! Hey!”

Jeremy was shocked once the crowd parted and he saw Michael. “What-” He blinked. “Micah, what are you doing here? Don’t you have a sixth period?” He was so confused. 

Michael grinned. “Yep. Stage crew for the Drama class. Also, I have something for you!”

Jeremy gasped. “You joined stage crew?! For real?!” He pushed some other kids out of the way so he could see Michael better. “What do you mean you have something for me?” He was trying extremely hard not to smile, but his grin and excitement both were evident. 

Michael's smile only widened as he revealed the small creature held in his lap. A tiny, yipping puppy sat atop the desk, panting excitedly. “Corgi!”

Jeremy gasped louder, shoving even Mr. Reyes out of the way and bolting toward the puppy. “What the fuck, Michael?!” he yelled, not caring who heard him curse, already cradling the dog in his arms. “You can’t bring a dog to school, dingus!” He held the yapping puppy close to his heart and rubbed its ears. “Are you stupid?!” Jeremy really didn’t mean a word he said. He was focused on the corgi and nothing except the corgi. 

Michael laughed loudly, happily watching Jeremy’s immediate infatuation with the small animal. “Mr. Reyes played with her for three minutes, I don't think he's going to report me.” Jeremy looked absolutely in love with the dog. Michael's heart swelled. “Fuck the school system, we aren't leaving. Dogs are people too, they deserve education.”

Jeremy kept hugging the puppy, who was looking pretty comfortable in his arms. He’d forgotten about everyone else who was there. Only Michael and the puppy mattered. He nodded in agreement with Michael’s claim, not noticing small tears of joy coming from his eyes. “Wh-What’s her name? Whose is she?”

Michael shrugged, holding Jeremy's gaze. “Rich voted for Krunglefucker9000, but I figured I would let you decide. She's yours. You said corgi, yeah? I just picked her up.” he gave a timid smile. “She was the runt. They almost just gave up on anyone taking her.”

Jeremy gasped and his head shot up. “M-Mine?” He didn’t remember saying he wanted a corgi, but he was sure he had at some point. Michael always remembered things like that. “She’s beautiful, why wouldn’t anyone want her? That’s rude.” He hugged the puppy closer to his face. “Wait, Rich knew about this before I did?!”

Michael grinned apologetically. “I needed someone to cover for me while I snuck out of school to go get her.”

Jeremy let it go when he saw Michael’s smile. “Aw, fine,” he murmured. “She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! You’ve been defeated, Mikey. She’s got you beat.” He sat on the floor and let the puppy sit on his lap. Still, he ignored everyone watching. 

The puppy hopped excitedly, trying to climb over Jeremy's legs in order to make her way towards whatever had caught her attention. Michael chuckled softly. “Somehow, I’m okay with that.” 

Jeremy held her in place gently so she wouldn’t escape. “Perfect,” he said, giving Michael a glowing smile. This really was perfect. Michael had joined stage crew _and_ got him a puppy? Maybe life did get better. “Does she look like a Peaches to you?”

Michael's response was instant. “Princess Peaches!”

Jeremy giggled and held the puppy to his face, kissing her head softly. “That’s it then!”

She popped excitedly, licking at Jeremy's face with reckless abandon. She was basically shaking with excitement. “The sweet Prince’s little princess.”

Jeremy laughed as the dog licked him, opening his eye a crack to grin at Michael before quickly shutting it again so the puppy wouldn’t lick it. He heard mumbling behind him, probably from the other students, since they were in class, but he didn’t care. 

Mr. Reyes, at the front of the room, cleared his throat and clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention. “Well, class, we were supposed to begin reading over some of the classic Shakespeare plays- and spitballing ideas on how to modernize them- but, in honor of our visitor, I demand we run through some scenes from Romeo and Juliet. The role of Juliet is to be played by Peaches, no discussion. Sorry Christine, she is the superior actress.”

Jeremy was forced back into reality and felt his face burn as he realized people were listening. Even so, he laughed at Mr. Reyes’s joke—he thought it was a joke, anyway—and nodded. “Sorry, Christine,” he agreed, still being attacked by tiny dog kisses. 

Christine sighed. “No, you’re right.”

Michael laughed, rolling his eyes. “Is this what drama class is like? Maybe I should've joined sooner.” 

Mr. Reyes straightened up slightly. “Only on special occasions. Usually we run a very tight ship around here Mr. Mell,” his confidence cracked slightly as he remembered how the practices with Brooke and Chloe had gone. “Kind of.” 

Jeremy laughed again. He’d gotten somewhat comfortable around Mr. Reyes in the past few months. Meaning he wasn’t as weirded out by him. He didn’t say anything else, but he kept giggling as Peaches somehow got him laying on the floor, her feet on his chest and slobber on his face. 

Mr. Reyes shrugged. “Whatever. Someone pass out these papers for me. It's the first day and I need meditation time. Don't bother me and I won't bother you.” He shuffled over to his desk.

Michael turned to Jeremy. “Is he always like this?”

Jeremy didn’t stop laughing at the tickly feeling the puppy was causing him. “More or less. He’s got a hot pocket addiction.”

Michael nodded solemnly. “ _God_ , don't we all?”

Jeremy grabbed the puppy and sat up, letting her lay in his lap. “You’re right.” He pet Peaches until she calmed down a little. “Michael, this is the best first day.”

Michael’s heart thumped loudly in his chest. “First of many,” he grinned. He intended for Jeremy to be as happy as possible, no matter the day. “That's all I'm here for.” Did that make sense? Maybe. Michael sometimes got caught up in his thoughts and his sentences ended up not relating to the previous conversation.

Jeremy wiped at a tear he didn’t know was sliding down his cheek. Months ago, a bruise decorated that side of his face, but it was gone now. So was the one on his side. He was grateful. He suddenly stopped grinning. “Michael, does my dad know you got a dog for me?”

Michael froze, guilt creeping into his expression. “Uh… surprise?” He tried, grinning crookedly. Whoops. He knew he had forgotten something.

Jeremy’s mouth fell agape. “ _What_?! Michael!”

Michael laughed, an awkward unattractive snort. “It's gonna be so funny! What if you didn't even say anything, there's just suddenly a dog. Just pretend she's always been there.” He collected himself, “There's no way he’ll say no, anyway. I mean, look at her!”

“Well, of course he’ll love her instantly, but we don’t have food! Or a collar! Or anything!” Jeremy was almost freaking out, but Peaches yipping to herself softly on his lap made it hard to be upset. 

Michael slipped out of his desk, settling down to sit on the floor with Jeremy. He looked around, making sure no one was paying attention to them—the others were chatting to each other, dog forgotten– before leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Jeremy's lips, carefully extracting the puppy from his boyfriend's hands. He cradled her to his chest where she automatically tried to nuzzle her nose into Michael's collarbone. “Jer, it's okay. I have food, and we can go get a collar after school. A tag and everything.”

“R-Really?” Jeremy squeaked, absolutely melting at the sight of Michael cradling the puppy. The two cutest things in his life were together, and that’s all he needed. He couldn’t help but smile wistfully. 

Michael nodded. “Of course, what kind of person would I be if I didn't help provide for our beautiful princess.” He looked down at the puppy, tugging her ear lightly and then hiding his hand to confuse her. She yipped in alarm. Michael scratched her behind the ears, much to her delight. 

Jeremy watched the two of them play and sighed with joy. “I love you so much, Michael,” he said. He reached over to pet Peaches on the head, then switched to petting Michael. He laughed. “So soft.”

Michael leaned into Jeremy's fingers, smile softening. “I love you, too, Miah.” He leaned over to kiss him again, gentle and caring. 

Jeremy knew future classes wouldn’t go this way, but he decided to revel in this one. He didn’t let the kiss end, but he used it as a distraction to take the dog back. 

Michael scoffed into the kiss as he realized what Jeremy was doing. He bit his bottom lip as punishment, pulling away with a smirk. “Rude.”

Jeremy held the puppy up next to his face. He pouted. “Say it to our adorable faces, Mikey.”

Michael rolled his eyes, still smiling. “You're gonna give me laugh lines. And heart failure. Neither are particularly appealing.” He got to his feet, holding a hand out to Jeremy in offering. “Whaddya say we dip and hit the pet store now?”

Jeremy held Peaches with one arm and accepted Michael’s help with the other. Standing up, he grinned. “Yeah, let’s go.”


	47. Epilogue: (please do not fuck bowties)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied sexy times warning!! If u aren't down to clown don't read past the stars!! (****)

Michael grimaced as he looked himself up and down in the full length mirror. Suits. Who invented suits? They were so impractical. And stuffy. He huffed to himself. He looked terrible. Well, not terrible, but not great. He looked awkward and uncomfortable. He glanced at the time on his phone. Well, too late to do anything about it now, he had to go get Jeremy.

Jeremy. Michael felt his anxieties fade slightly, his heart calming at just the thought of his boyfriend. They’d been together for over a year now. Amazing, really, because at one point Michael hadn't thought they'd ever be together. But, here he was, stuffed into this dumb suit and getting ready to go pick up Jeremy and take him to their Senior Prom. 

Michael took a deep breath, shoving his phone into his pocket and grabbing his keys. Well, now is as good a time as any.

\-------

Jeremy was fighting his dad over how to tie his bowtie. His father had watched a YouTube video on it and claimed to be an expert, but it wasn’t working out. 

He was used to suits—he was Jewish, after all—but he was only used to neckties. He could tie one in an instant. Bowties, however...Fuck bowties.

He assumed Michael would know how to tie it. Jeremy swatted his father’s hands away and told him he’d just wait, going back upstairs to prepare himself. His hair was a mess, but when wasn’t it? He tried to make it look presentable, but would Michael even care? Half of him hoped he wouldn’t, the other half hoped he would. 

Now wasn’t the time to fret. He’d fretted far too often in the past year or so. Tonight was going to be magical. He’d just wait for Michael. Then it would all be fine. 

————

Michael stood outside of Jeremy's front door feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Why was he nervous at all, anyway? It was _Jeremy_. His best friend, love of his life, Jeremiah Heere- who he’d known for 13 years. He gulped. Maybe it was because this felt so… formal. He had never been good at formal. He used his free hand to knock quickly on the door, lips quirking as he heard the telltale yipping of Peaches in response.

Jeremy raced down the stairs, not wanting to keep Michael waiting. He said a quick goodbye to his dad, accompanied by a “Yes, we’ll be careful,” and put his leg out in front of Peaches so she wouldn’t escape when he opened the door. 

Michael smiled as Jeremy opened the door. His eyes automatically raked up and down his boyfriend's body, very much appreciating the way the suit fit his body. He pulled his other hand out from behind his back, revealing a single red rose that he held out to Jeremy in offering. “Heya,” he muttered, smiling crookedly.

Jeremy grinned widely, taking the rose immediately and laughing just a bit at how romantically cliché Michael was. He looked up from the flower to take his boyfriend in, looking at the suit he wore. Jesus. “You look–Goddamn, Micah,” he breathed. He was at a loss for words, so he gently tugged at Michael’s suit collar to persuade him into a kiss. 

Michael fell forward easily, lips meeting Jeremy's for a soft kiss. He pulled back with a blush and a bashful shrug. “I don't look _that_ great.” He paused, eyes raking down Jeremy's form once again. “You, on the other hand, look absolutely ravishing.”

Jeremy blushed, trying to think of a way to get Michael flustered, too. He couldn’t top ‘ravishing’. That was already, like, the most powerful adjective. His brain hadn’t caught up with his mouth when he spoke again, biting the inside of his cheek. “Well… _You_...t-turn me on…?”

Michael beamed, leaning down to capture Jeremy's lips in another kiss, this one slower and more languid. “Thanks.”

Jeremy melted, but suddenly remembered something. Awkwardly, staring into Michael’s intoxicating eyes, he stammered, “C-Can you tie my, uh, thing?” He gestured to his bowtie, not breaking eye contact. 

Michael, after a moment more of intense eye contact, flicked his gaze down to the loose fabric around Jeremy's neck. He nodded, hands coming up to deftly fold the fabric into the correct shape, tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.

“Sorry, I-” Jeremy thought better of apologizing. “Thanks, babe,” he corrected. He looked up. “Put that tongue back in your mouth.”

Michael snorted, “I would prefer to put it back in _your_ mouth, but we can't all be winners, Jer.” Michael stepped back slightly, taking in Jeremy's full completed look. His heart melted instantly. He looked beautiful. He held his arms open in question. “Hug?”

Jeremy smiled. “Hug,” he repeated in affirmation. He wrapped his arms around Michael tightly, hiding his face so he could wipe a tear away before it could fall. This was a dream, but it was real. It was everything Jeremy wished for, for the moment, that is. 

Michael buried his nose in Jeremy's hair, inhaling deeply. “I love you a lot.”

Jeremy laughed. “You say that, like, every day.”

Michael nodded into Jeremy's hair. “Because I meant it more and more every day. Even though I shouldn't be able to love you any more than I already do. And I just want to say it, so, y’know.” He pulled back just enough to kiss Jeremy's forehead. “I'm gonna say it every day until the day we die.”

Jeremy leaned up and kissed Michael’s nose. “We’re gonna die on the same day?” That was fine by him. Over a year ago, he’d told Michael that he didn’t want to live in a world without him, and he’d meant it. He still did. And he would forever. 

Michael shrugged, meeting his eyes. “Well, you’ll probably die first, but then I’ll die at the same time. Because my body won't let me live in a world without you.” Yes, hello, Michael Mell, professional sap, at your service.

Jeremy nodded. “Sweet, babe, that’s really sweet. But why am I going to die first?” He was very interested in hearing Michael’s explanation. 

Michael snickered to himself. “Probably because you're Jewish.”

“Wh-What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeremy knew there were stereotypes. Selfishness, big noses, money hoarding, all the pork stuff–but he hadn’t heard of dying early. 

Michael's smirk softened as he ran his hand through Jeremy's hair carefully. “Calm down, sunshine, I’m kidding. You’ll die first because the only thing that can ever kill me is you. Not even old age will come for the Mells. Only emotions. Dead by feelings.”

Jeremy scoffed. “The only thing that kill me is…” He tried to think of a comeback that wasn’t repeating Michael’s or just stupid. “Uh…” He couldn’t come up with anything. “M-Mortality, I guess, sorry.”

Michael beamed at him, finally pulling back from the hug. “Exactly.” He pulled his phone out and checked the time quickly before putting it back and extending a hand out to Jeremy. “We better get going. I think we’ve achieved 'fashionably late’ by now.”

Jeremy turned around and realized they were still standing by his front door. “R-Right, sorry.” He eagerly took Michael’s hand and smiled at him. “Lead the way, Prince Charming.”

Michael grinned pausing to turn back to the door for a second. “Bye Princess!” A small yip came from the other side of the door in response, making Michael's grin widen further. “Okay, now we can go.” He started towards his car with Jeremy.

Jeremy let Michael pull him along, though it was a short walk, and kissed his cheek once they got to his car. “What a fancy limo you’ve rented us, Mikey,” he said. 

Michael laughed, pulling Jeremy's door open for him, as he bent down in a dramatic bow. “My lady,” he drawled, glancing up at Jeremy with a smirk.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and hopped in. “Chivalry isn’t dead after all,” he replied. He watched Michael go around to his side, _maybe_ staring a bit too long at certain things. 

Michael slipped into the driver's seat, starting up the engine. “Do you think I can convince them to play a Marley song?”

“Depends on who the DJ is, y’know,” Jeremy said. 

Michael hummed as they pulled out of the driveway. “Now that you aren't straight you can finally realize how funny it is to watch the straights interact in a party scene.”

“Oh god,” Jeremy groaned. “That sounds really painful.” Over the past year, Jeremy had gotten pretty comfortable with his sexuality. He was open about it, proud. He even had a little bi flag sticker on his locker, courtesy of Rich. Rich always called himself and Jeremy the “Bi Bros” which was part of how Jeremy got to be so proud of himself over time. 

Michael snorted to himself, thinking back to the multiple times Jeremy had dragged him to some party or another in the past. “It's pretty entertaining, actually.”

\--------

As Michael parked in the lot outside of their school auditorium and shut the car off, he turned to Jeremy. “Ready?”

Jeremy took a deep breath. “Are you?” He could hear the music pulsing through the walls. He knew it would be basically a madhouse inside. 

Michael's lips quirked in amusement. “Kinda.” He pushed his glasses up his nose before taking Jeremy's hand in his own and bringing it up to his lips. He kissed the back of his hand quickly before looking back up at his boyfriend. “Senior prom is supposedly one of those things you remember for the rest of your life, y’know? Honestly, I never planned on even going to prom. I didn't see the appeal.”

“I never thought I’d have anyone to go with, honestly,” Jeremy admitted. “But here we are. Let’s go in before all the cookies are gone. I think there are cookies anyway.” He squeezed Michael’s hand and smiled up at him. 

Michael let out a choked laugh and a -somewhat pained- sound low in his throat. “God Fucking damn, Jeremy. You really know just what to say to get to me. Fuck, I _really_ want those cookies. Let's go fuck up the snack table.” Michael leaned over to give Jeremy a quick kiss before pulling away and popping open his car door.

Jeremy grinned and opened his door, too, stepping out and straightening his suit jacket. He pulled his sleeves down so they were at the right place on his wrists and made sure the cufflinks were secure. He sighed with anticipation and closed the door, turning to walk around toward Michael and the auditorium. “Let’s go eat those cookies, babe.”

Michael grabbed Jeremy's hand, laughing as he led them to the doors of the building. The sound was pumping through the walls, nondescript music paired with the low roar of people conversing. Michael pushed the door open, grimacing slightly at the density of people grouped together in the middle of the space. He immediately scanned his eyes around the edges of the room, taking in the streamers and balloons decorating the walls and various tables. He turned to Jeremy, having to speak in a low shout in order to be heard over the sound. “Do you think the others are here yet?”

Jeremy didn’t think he could make his voice loud enough, so he just nodded, a little overwhelmed by the whole scene. There were a _ton_ of people; more than he thought were even seniors. He gulped. It was daunting. He did think their other friends had already arrived. Michael and he were pretty fashionably late. 

Michael hummed, tightening his grip on Jeremy's had so that they wouldn't be separated and leading them around the perimeter of the dancing crowd. He scanned the tables until found what he was looking for. “Free food! _Nice_.”

Jeremy kept his eyes on Michael so he wouldn’t get too overwhelmed. When Michael stopped, he looked down. “See any cookies?” he asked loudly, the music not as blaring there as it was in the middle. 

Michael nodded, tugging them over to duck back behind the tables. It was vaguely quieter now that they were away from the large speaker system. It gave them a much needed semblance of privacy. Suddenly the song changed, Michael was surprised when he actually recognized the first few chords. He pulled Jeremy closer, pressing their chests together. He brought their hands, still linked, up to shoulder level as he wrapped his free arm around Jeremy's waist, holding him in place. “Hey,” he muttered, locking eyes with the shorter boy. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Jeremy looked up at Michael wistfully. “What are you doing?” He laughed. Were they dancing? Was it a bad time to tell Michael that he didn’t learn how to dance? He started feeling a little nervous. He hadn’t thought about _dancing_. How stupid was he? 

Michael released Jeremy's hand, moving so that both hands were wrapped securely around his waist. He smiled, shrugging. “Living.” He pulled Jeremy into a swaying movement, vaguely in beat with the song– which he recognized to be 'Everyone but You’ by The Front Bottoms– as he hummed along, not breaking the eye contact.

That made all of Jeremy’s worries wash away. Who cared if he didn’t practice dancing? This was Michael. He could be himself with Michael. Jeremy grinned softly up at him, going with the swaying gently, his hands on Michael’s shoulders. “Sap.”

Michael laughed, moving closer so that their foreheads were almost pressed together. “Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of your swooning.” He teased lightly.

Jeremy scoffed in mock offense. “Your fault for being so swoon-worthy,” he said just loud enough for Michael to hear over the music. He quickly kissed his nose, something he had grown to enjoy doing over the year they’d been dating because of the way Michael’s eyes sparkled. 

Michael grinned, edging ever closer until their lips were almost touching but stopping just out of reach. “Mhmm, so I hear. But you know what else is 'swoon-worthy’?”

Jeremy’s eyes didn’t leave Michael’s, big and curious. “What is?”

Michael smirked wickedly, pulling away and shoving a small bite sized cupcake– which he had grabbed from the table whilst Jeremy was distracted– directly onto Jeremy's lips. “Cupcakes!”

Jeremy made a muffled noise, reflexively letting the cupcake into his mouth. “Rude,” he said once he’d chewed it enough to speak around it. “I wanted a damn kiss.” He tried to put on his best puppy eyes. 

Michael rolled his eyes, leaning down again. “But now you’ll taste even sweeter than usual.”

“I’ll taste like store bought icing.” Jeremy puffed his bottom lip out to pout. 

Michael chuckled, pecking Jeremy on the lips but not moving away. “Good thing I'm not picky.”

“Kiss me for real, you coward,” Jeremy teased, smiling. Michael was just too damn cute. 

Michael scoffed, finally capturing Jeremy's lips in searing kiss Their mouths worked together familiarly, but no less meaningful. 

Jeremy instantly melted, the grip he had on Michael’s shoulders becoming lax and casual. Honestly, they’d be doing this whether they were at a dance or not. The surroundings only made it a little more acceptable. 

Michael finally pulled away with a sigh, glancing at their surroundings. “So, what exactly are we supposed to do at 'Senior Prom’, anyway?” He actually wasn't really sure how long this thing lasted or what they we're supposed to do while they were there. 

“I guess wait until there’s alcohol and then slip out so we avoid a shitfaced Rich. That was my plan.” Jeremy looked around. Where were their friends anyway?

Michael hummed thoughtfully to himself, leaning in closer to Jeremy's ear so he didn't have to yell. “Then we have prom night, right? Isn't it, like, traditional for couples to bang after their prom?” 

Jeremy stared straight ahead, eyes unfocused. He felt his face become a little warm. “Y-Yeah, and?” he teased. 

Michael placed a kiss directly underneath the base of Jeremy's ear. “And,” he started, voice low. “I've topped the last two times. Which means I'm feeling particularly… needy.”

Jeremy gulped, his face definitely getting warmer. “S-So you want me to...When we get home…” He shifted on his feet. If that’s what Michael wanted, Jeremy needed a confidence boost. “Is that what I’m hearing, babe?”

Michael smirked, nibbling Jeremy's earlobe. “Yes,” he breathed, “I want you to _fuck_ me, Jeremy.”

Jeremy’s breath hitched, deep in his throat. He blinked a few times in rapid succession and cleared his throat softly. “I’ll do more than that,” he promised, voice low and lips now close to Michael’s ear since he pulled his own away from the needy boy’s teeth. 

Michael was simultaneously confused and mildly aroused. “More? What do you mean by that?”

Jeremy stopped breathing lowly and pulled to face Michael. “I- Look, I’m not the best at this, I was just trying to…” He spoke softer. “S-seduce you or whatever.” Now his face was really red, embarrassed by his lack of skill. When he flirted, half the things he said didn’t make sense. 

Michael grinned, kissing Jeremy on the cheek comfortingly. “Don't worry, honey, it's okay. I know for a fact that once you get into it,” he paused, smirking. “You're actually pretty _good_ at dirty talk.”

Jeremy laughed nervously. “O-Oh I don’t think–” He was cut off by a yell. 

“Hey, Jeremy! Michael! Welcome to the party!” It was Jake, accompanied by Rich, as always. 

Michael turned, casually throwing arm arm of Jeremy's shoulder as if nothing had happened. “Hey! There you guys are! We were wondering when you would find us.” He grinned easily.

Rich waved excitedly in greeting, but didn't say anything.

Jake pulled Rich closer by the waist. “Yeah, we were on the dance floor,” he explained loudly, too loudly for the amount of music they were having to speak over. “I think it screwed up my hearing!”

Jeremy laughed a little. Those two would never change. 

Michael snorted, nodding. “Maybe. Have you seen any of the girls?”

Jeremy nodded to mean he also wanted the answer. 

Jake took a while to speak, probably trying to piece together what Michael said since he couldn’t hear it all. “Yeah! They were all over by the DJ, I think they had a song request or something.” 

Rich grabbed a cupcake from the table, beaming at the other pair. “I see you two have been canoodling amongst the snacks, huh?”

Jeremy sputtered. “W-We were just getting cookies!”

Jake scoffed, laughing. “Yeah, and me and Rich _aren’t_ the school’s power couple.”

Michael rolled his eyes, grabbing a cupcake for himself. “Yeah, whatever. We’re gonna go… do prom stuff.” He grabbed Jeremy's hand, leading him off to try and find their other friends.

Rich called after them teasingly. “Don't forget to use protection, kids!”

\-------

The night had gone pretty much as expected. Michael and Jeremy had talked to the girls for a while—the latter having been flustered half that time because they’d complimented him on his suit—and they were now winding down and getting ready to leave. The place had gotten emptier as others left, and the music had changed from loud, bass driven songs for the most part to slow dancing melodies. 

Jeremy currently was holding Michael’s hand as the two of them watched the dancing couples—and Rich and Jake, if what they were doing could be considered dancing—as they finished their dessert stashes. 

Michael hummed along quietly to whatever song was playing, not really paying attention. He was preoccupied with watching the way the colorful fluorescent lights danced across Jeremy's face. Luckily his boyfriend wasn't paying attention either, so Michael's eyes had free range over Jeremy's unguarded features. He wished the image of him- here, like this- could be burnt into his eyelids so that he would never forget. God he was a sappy dork.  
**********  
Finally, Jeremy turned to face Michael, a big dopey grin on his face. “This was fun,” he said. “I guess. There were a lot of people.” His smile flickered. “But anything’s worth seeing you in a suit.”

Michael laughed, smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, as good as you look in a suit, I think I’d prefer seeing you out of it.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. 

Jeremy had gotten past the embarrassed side the second time Michael had flirted with him that night. “Really?” he asked in faux innocence. “And what would that entail, pray tell?”

Michael hummed, eyes darkening as his mind wandered. “Well,” he drawled. “it would probably involve copious amounts of rough sexual activities in my bedroom.”

Jeremy bit his lip as he tried to keep the aura of a confident version of himself. “Copious, huh? And you like it rough?”

Michael's smirk widened. “Mhmm. And you don't have to be quiet this time. After all, it _is_ my parents’ date night. Whole house to ourselves.” He raked his eyes down Jeremy's body. “And I _know_ how loud you can be.”

That sent Jeremy’s hormones right to the edge. His breathing was shallow and he felt hot. “It’s not too early to- to leave, is it? We can go...home…”

Michael let out a breathy laugh. This was exactly the reaction he had been aiming for. Just a little more, and Jeremy would be tipped over the edge. “Oh? Are you already thinking about how _wrecked_ you always are when I get you off? Or do you prefer it when I get so desperate for you I _beg_?”

“W-” Jeremy cleared his throat and calmed himself. “Will you beg for me, Mikey? You’re always so pretty,” he said, almost to his tipping point. Soon it might be _him_ begging. To go home. 

Michael moved closer, trailing a hand down Jeremy's jaw as he brought his lips to the other boy’s neck. Almost there. “Will you please fuck me? I want you to ruin me.”

Jeremy bit hard on his lip, the only thing he could hear being Michael’s voice and breaths on his neck. His eyes were closed. “We’re going home,” he said, voice clear and low. It wasn’t a question. 

Michael grinned deviously. Bingo. That's exactly what he had been waiting for. He grabbed Jeremy's hand, tugging him towards the exit without another word. He intended to make full use of how riled up Jeremy already was.

Jeremy was breathing hard. He needed Michael home, on his bed, preferably not wearing anything. He needed it now. When they reached the car, he even pulled his phone out to check the traffic on the way to Michael’s house to see how long it would take to get there. 

Michael leaned over after buckling his seatbelt, kissing Jeremy hard. He wanted Jeremy's anticipation to go as high as possible. He always acted the most unguarded when he was desperate. 

Jeremy wouldn’t admit to it, but he whimpered a little into Michael’s mouth. The wait was becoming agonizing. He wanted Michael to floor it. 

Michael pulled away, leaving Jeremy panting. He smirked, voice rough, as he pulled out of the school parking lot. “Patience is a virtue, Sweet Prince.”

Jeremy’s voice was high. “I have a questionable moral compass.”

Michael laughed but decided to hold off on any further teasing until they got home. At this rate, if he didn't lighten up a bit, Jeremy might've just jumped him in the car.

Jeremy probably couldn’t have handled any more of Michael’s flirting. He was already having an increasing detestation for wearing pants. The ride home was silent, but once the car was parked, Jeremy was outside opening Michael’s car door and pulling him to the house. 

Michael smiled at Jeremy's impatience. “Eager, are we?” Michael teased, despite the unusual speed in which he had unlocked his front door. “Good.” He pulled Jeremy inside quickly, kicking the door shut before pushing Jeremy against it roughly, pinning his wrists beside his head. He kissed him harshly, desperate lips fighting against each other.

Instantly, Jeremy kissed back with returned ferocity, his arms going lax in Michael’s grip. Eventually, without pulling back, Jeremy groaned into the kiss, speaking. “Shouldn’t I be the one holding you down, Mikey?”

Michael laughed through his nose, pulling Jeremy away from the door in favour of wrapping his arms around him and stumbling backwards towards the door that led to the stairs. “Then do it.” Michael breathed in between rushed kisses. They needed to get to the bed, and _now_.

Jeremy took the lead once they reached the staircase. He didn’t want Michael falling down the steps; he knew how badly that hurt. He practically leapt down, Michael close by, headed straight for the bed. He said nothing as he yanked Michael down onto the fresh sheets—nice touch—and gave the other boy no time to breathe before kissing him with both Michael’s hands held above his head. 

Michael whined, pulling away from the kiss to mumble urgently. “Clothes, off,” he demanded, pushing at Jeremy's hold on his wrists slightly. His hands itched to touch the other boy.

Jeremy tightened his grip on Michael’s arms. “Now who’s eager? Don’t tell me what to do.” He kissed him again, hard. He might have been teased to oblivion, but he’d do the same to Michael. 

Michael groaned, wedging a knee in between Jeremy's legs. “Jeremy,” he pleaded. “ Please?”

Jeremy resisted the urge to gain some friction on Michael’s knee and pressed his wrists harder into the mattress. “Please _what_?”

Michael moaned as Jeremy's fingers pressed into his skin. He looked up at him, eyes hazy and clouded with lust. “Please, _Daddy_.”


	48. Epilogue: (Please Do Not Fuck YouTube)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is really gay and sappy

Jeremy clicked through ad after ad, nothing seeming good enough. This one’s shower was too small, that one barely had a kitchen, this one’s locks were on the wrong side of all the doors. Why was it so hard to find a place to live? He sighed, closing his laptop to take a break. Michael was at his feet, doing who knows what on his own computer. Jeremy watched his fingers type on the keyboard, swift and masterful. Attractive. He got his head out of the gutter and sighed again. 

Michael's fingers didn't halt as he spoke up. “What's up, buttercup? What's with the sighs?” 

Jeremy sighed a third time to emphasize. “There are literally no places good enough for my boyfriend to live in.” 

Michael chuckled, glancing up at Jeremy's exasperated expression. “Can't find a nice cardboard box for sale?”

“We’re not Squidward. We’re not gonna beg for spare change.” Jeremy groaned, flopping over so that his head was on Michael’s shoulder. “What are you doing, anyway?”

Michael hummed, finishing up one last word before sitting back and looking over his screen with a grimace. “Finals Essay. I think I'm finished now, though.” He closed his laptop with a sigh, setting it aside and turning around to face Jeremy. He rested his chin on Jeremy's knees as he looked up at him. “House hunting is weird. Feels like we're still in high school.”

Jeremy laughed. “But this time we get a real degree. Not some ‘Ah, congrats, have four more years of the same bullshit but you have to pay for it’ y’know?” He ran his fingers through Michael’s soft hair. 

Michael smiled, eyes falling closed as Jeremy ran his hands through his hair soothingly. “Still weird, though. Feeling like it was last week I was watching you pine over Christine in the hallway.” He laughed to himself. “Too bad that didn't work out, huh?”

“What a shame,” Jeremy said, shaking his head. “It could be her and me here looking for houses instead of me and some guy who eats banana sandwiches.”

Michael snorted, cracking one eye open to look up at his boyfriend. “Look, Jere, we all have our demons, okay? Mine just happens to involve banana sandwiches. We can't all be winners.” Michael trailed his hands idly up Jeremy's legs, dropping them to rest atop his thighs. 

Jeremy put his hands on top of Michael’s. “I know, babe. I know.” He yawned. “Soon we can handle those demons with a degree and a house. That’ll be fun. If I could find one that isn’t completely lacking.” He sighed and went over some of the requirements they’d come up with for the house in his head. They needed a backyard for Peaches, a bathroom big enough for them both to get ready at the same time, a room for their entertainment stuff, among other things. Jeremy twisted the ring on his finger in contemplation. “Do you have any ideas?”

Michael hummed thoughtfully. “We let Princess chase a family out of their home and take it for ourselves?” Peaches liked to think she was much more intimidating than she was.

Jeremy nodded. “Best plan I’ve ever heard. That family will quiver before her.”

Michael laughed again before lapsing into a pensive silence. “Six years, huh? That's an awful long time.”

Jeremy laughed nervously. “Huh? What are we talking about? Peaches? She’s five.” He was confused.

Michael snorted, grabbing Jeremy's hand (the one with the ring) and linking them. “No, dummy. We’ve been together for six years. Most highschool couples don't last six months.”

“We’re not most couples, Micah,” Jeremy said softly, smiling. He brought their linked hands up to his face and kissed all of Michael’s fingers, one by one. “Didn’t we say we’d be together forever?”

Michael beamed, pushing his glasses up from where they'd slipped down his nose. “Of course,” he confirmed, “but you know, once you become a famous actor you’ll have all sorts of people practically falling at your feet. Who’s to say you won't get tired of nerdy ol’ Mikey.” He made sure his tone was light so that Jeremy knew he was only teasing. Michael wasn't worried. He knew that Jeremy loved him and wouldn't leave. He had proven it time and time again over the years.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Never gonna happen. Know why?” He kissed Michael’s knuckles. “Because you’re the only one who will ever be falling at my feet.” Jeremy wasn’t the best actor. Sure, he’d greatly improved since high school and he’d managed to compete with the big leagues at NYU, but that didn’t mean he’d ever land a real job. Much less have fans other than Michael and their friends and family. 

Michael scoffed, quirking an eyebrow at Jeremy. “Yeah, right. I’ve heard you sing. You're amazing! You could make it to Broadway, easy.”

“You have to say that, you love me.” Jeremy scoffed. “You’ll be famous too, then.”

“I mean, yeah, I do love you, but you really are an amazing singer. I'm not kidding, your voice is great. If I’m gonna be famous for anything it’ll be for dating a famous actor.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Michael, stop. It’s too much to think about right now. And you totally have the potential to get famous on your own accord. Start a YouTube channel.”

Michael rolled his eyes, shrugging. “Whatever. Let's focus on a house for now. Broadway can wait. Also, fuck YouTube, there's only, like, ten good channels on there.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Fine,” he said, leaning to open his laptop again. “Help me find some options. I’ve looked at everything.”

\-----------

Michael grimaced as Peaches barked at him excitedly, jumping on his leg somewhere underneath the box he was carrying. “Princess, stop, you're gonna get stepped on, I can't see you,” he warned, side stepping away and carefully shuffling over to place the box onto the stack of other boxes. He sighed, stepping back. “I think that's the last one,” he called out to Jeremy, who was sitting on the other side of the room, sorting through the contents of one of the many boxes.

“I hope so,” Jeremy called back. “This is gonna take forever. Since when do we have so much stuff?” He pulled random plates and cups out of the current box. “Where did we say we were gonna put these?” None of them matched. Some were even out of Happy Meals, promoting The LEGO Movie.

Michael shuffled over, carefully picking up a stack of plates before Peaches could step on them. “Uh… one of the kitchen cabinets? We can sort it out later, let's just get them out of the rampage path.” Needless to say, their dog was _very_ excited to explore her new surroundings. She was sprinting aimlessly around the room, sniffing everything she could find and occasionally barking at something or another.

Jeremy sighed and returned to his unboxing. They really should have had some sort of organization, because out of the same box the plates were in, Jeremy pulled his high school diploma and Peaches’s dog bed. “Wow,” he marveled at their complete lack of planning.

Michael laughed, shuffling out of the room to bring the plates to the kitchen. “At least they had padding!” He called behind him.

Jeremy laughed, too. “I guess, but I don’t want to think about what we put our consoles in with.” If their games were broken, he thought he might cry. 

Michael returned a moment later, hands empty. “Nah, we packed those first, remember? We were actually paying attention.” Priorities were important.

“Maybe _you_ were paying attention, but I was trying to keep Peaches out of all the boxes,” Jeremy said. He sighed. At least this was the fun part. Now they could decorate this place however they wanted. Put whatever they wanted wherever they chose. “Oh, speaking of Peaches, can you take her outside? Show her the backyard. Maybe she needs to go, anyway.”

Michael nodded, grabbing the dog as she approached him excitedly. “She might explode, at the rate she's going. So much excitement in such a small being.” The were currently in the living room, which had a sliding glass door on one wall leading out into said backyard. Michael pushed the door open, dropping Peaches down to explore the grassy area. He left the door open so that he could still talk while keeping an eye on the dog. “Moving day is always wild.”

“It’s exciting,” Jeremy added, moving on to another box. “It’s different than moving into that smelly dorm. This is a real house! Just for us! No random check ups or pantsless dads.” He sighed with content, listening to the soft sound of Peaches barking at the new grass. 

Michael smiled to himself, glancing back at Jeremy. He looked back at Peaches. The backyard was fenced in, leaving her no method of escape, so Michael figured she would be fine on her own as he wandered back over to Jeremy. He left the door open for whenever she decided she wanted to come in. “First house, yeah, but I’ve been home every time I'm with you.”

“Didn’t I tell you six years ago that you were my home, Mikey?” Jeremy asked cheekily. “That hasn’t changed. But this is huge for us! First house, achievement unlocked!” He grinned at his boyfriend. 

Michael sat down beside Jeremy, leaning over to kiss him tenderly. “Love you more than the stars, Moonboy.”

“Since that doesn’t make sense, I love you more than that,” Jeremy responded, kissing him again. 

Michael shrugged, pulling open another box. “I'm tired, give me a break. My pet name game isn't up to par today.”

“You’ll get your mojo back.” Jeremy pulled his legs close to him so he was sitting cross-legged. “What’s in that one?” He pointed at the box Michael was opening. 

Michael sighed dramatically. “Oh, why it's just filled to the brim with nothing but dildos! Never have I seen such a bountiful array of fake dicks “

“Must have come from your side of the room, then,” Jeremy mumbled, opening his own box. 

Michael snorted, pulling out the linens that were in his box. “Yeah, your sex box is just full of rope and fuzzy handcuffs.” They should really put some furniture together at some point.

“Don’t forget the butt plug, honey,” Jeremy said as he pulled out some of the cereal boxes that they’d packed to eat. 

Michael laughed loudly. “Oh, right, how could I forget! The furry tail buttplug, your favorite!” Michael threw a dishrag at Jeremy as he stood up, bed sheets in hand.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. He tossed the rag aside. “You know it, babe,” he said, standing up as well. “What are we doing? Standing?”

Michael shook his head, dumb smile on his face. “No, I just figured we probably aren't going to get the bedframe set up today, so we may as well put the sheets on the mattress.” He nodded his head toward the bare mattress that rested in the corner of the room. “Living room slumber party!”

“Oh, totally! It’ll be fun! Us and Peaches!” Jeremy stepped around the boxes to get to the mattress. “Move that stuff so I can set this somewhere.”

Michael did as instructed, dropping the bedsheets to top of a box and then carefully sliding them out of the way. “First night in the new house, sleeping in the living room. Fun times.” He quickly glanced outside, checking up on Peaches. She was laid out on her back in the grass, eyes closed. “Guess she finally tired herself out,” he observed, sliding the door closed. She seemed to like having the ability to nap in the sunlight.

Jeremy pushed the mattress so it was horizontal on the floor. He moved around to the other side so he could see through the glass. “Aw,” he remarked. “She’s so cute. Let her sleep for a while. Let’s sheet this thing.”

\---------

Michael chewed on his thumb nail idly, spinning back and forth in his computer chair, lost in thought. He was currently waiting for Jeremy to return home from his rehearsal. Michael had gotten off work early today- the photography company he was working at often had weird, unplanned half days. Some weird ploy to make them seem hip and lenient. Michael wasn't going to complain, though, because he had something to do that afternoon anyway.

Jeremy was having a good day. On the way to work, he had a seat on every tube train he’d had to take. At every crosswalk, he hadn’t had to wait for the go ahead. The same phenomenon happened on the way home. He was on the last train home, reading over his script. He’d been cast in this play back in high school, his junior year. It was familiar. He already had most of the lines down. This time, it was a professional production of Hamlet, however, not a school one. Michael had faith that he’d still do well. Before stepping off the train, Jeremy sent Michael a quick text to tell him he was almost home. 

Michael's phone buzzed, drawing his attention. He grabbed it, glancing over the text. He was almost here. Michael took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It was almost time. How was he supposed to do this, again? Ah, geez.

Jeremy put his phone away and smiled down at himself as he walked through the subway station and scanned his metrocard to exit. He walked up the steps to the street and started off toward their house. He felt good about the day. A sort of feeling with the same ferocity as anxiety but not near as bad—quite the opposite actually—filled his chest. He wouldn’t be surprised if something amazing happened that day. 

Michael hovered near the door. For his plan to work, he had to do it immediately. He thought back over what he wanted to say. He quickly decided he was just going to wing it. That's what he always did, anyway.

Finally, Jeremy made it to the last leg of his journey. He could see their house down the street, which gave him a new motivation to walk a little further. Home meant Michael. He’d see his boyfriend—and Peaches of course—and he’d kiss him and they’d laugh like always. He eventually made it to the door, fishing for his key, not knowing if Michael would hear him knock. 

Michael took a step back as he hear the telltale jingle of keys. He's here. It's time, no turning back. He put on an easy expression as the door opened. “Hey, you're home!” He greeted casually.

Jeremy jumped in shock, not expecting his boyfriend to be right at the door. Composing himself, he grinned. “Hey! How was work?” He sidestepped and went inside. 

Michael shrugged. “Same as usual. They sent us home early again. How was your day?” He awkwardly hovered near Jeremy. He couldn't let Jeremy go down the hallway leading to their room until it was time. 

Jeremy looked at Michael in confusion, but answered anyway. “It was cool, but the costume sizing was a pain in the ass. Literally.” He tried to step around Michael but it didn’t work. “What are you doing, babe? You miss me that much?”

Michael grinned. “I always miss you that much. But, uh,” he paused, biting his lip nervously. “I, um… I redecorated. While you were out. The hallway. And our room.” He took a breath to calm himself, giving Jeremy an awkward smile. “Thought I should warn you before you got confused. Oh, also,” he leaned forward, kissing the shorter boy sweetly. “Welcome home.”

Jeremy laughed in confusion. “What do you mean you redecorated? You got paintings or something? I-I don’t get it, Mikey, just let me see.” He tried to walk around his boyfriend again. 

Michael gulped, steeling himself. Now or never. “Okay,” he stepped back. “Come see, then.” He beckoned him down the hallway.

“All right?” Jeremy stepped ahead, eager to see what Michael had done to redecorate. His stomach felt fluttery. He set his bag on the couch as he entered the hallway. On the walls were pictures, but not artwork in the sense Jeremy had expected. 

Along one wall hung drawings, which were the first thing Jeremy could see. There were many of them, hung up in a line. They were all portraits of Jeremy, done by Michael. There were roughly twenty portraits Michael had created throughout the years, hung up in chronological order. 

“Oh my-” Jeremy couldn’t finish his sentence. His breath hitched in his throat. Michael had kept these? And most of them Jeremy had never seen before. When had he had the time for that? They were amazing. He could see Michael’s artistic progress improve right on the wall. He turned around to him. “Wh-What’s this?” He asked, but upon turning around, he saw the other wall was also decorated, this one with real photos. 

Each photo was framed and hung carefully, spaced evenly along the hallway leading up to their bedroom door. He could see that Michael had written something beside each image, but he could only really take in the first one from where he was standing. It was a picture from their first day of senior year. Christine had taken it, most likely. They were sitting on the floor of the drama classroom, Jeremy held up a tiny corgi puppy as Michael grinned. You could see the tear tracks on Jeremy's cheeks. Both boys were beaming happily at the camera. On the wall beside it, written in neat, careful print, it read 'You’re my Best Friend.’

“M-Michael, what’s going on?” Jeremy asked, eyes glued on the photo—Michael in the photo, mainly—and the words next to it. His heart swelled. But what did this mean? He didn’t wait for Michael to answer before moving on to the next photos. 

The second one was from prom night. Jeremy hadn't even realized there _were_ any pictures from that night. It was of the pair of them, pressed together in a comfortable half hug half dance. They were staring at each other, completely oblivious to any other people. The writing next to this one said ‘I Love You More Than Life.’

Jeremy stared at it. He had wished for years that they’d gotten a picture from prom night. The couples’ photos were too expensive, so they hadn’t bought any. Now this one was hanging on his wall. Michael looked so peaceful in it, so in love. Nothing had changed since then. He really did seem to love Jeremy more than life. Wordlessly, he stepped to the next one, time seeming to move in slow motion. 

The third picture was from roughly three years ago, not long after they had begun college. For the first two years, they had had a study group that would get together before big tests or important grades. This image was of Michael and Jeremy, passed out together on the floor right after they finished studying for three hours straight. The writing said ‘We’ve been Together for 7 Years.’

“Seven years,” Jeremy whispered to himself, staring at the image of Michael peacefully sleeping. He was only halfway down the hall—three photos were to his left—and he already felt the back of his eyes begin to sting with tears of love. He couldn’t hear if Michael was saying anything, too caught up in the moment. He numbly shifted to the next photograph. What was this about?

The fourth photo was of just Jeremy. He was sitting, cross-legged, amongst some pillows and sheets, a ukulele in hand. He was looking down at something, his expression was focused yet serene. This one read 'You’re Beautiful.’

Michael had gotten a photo of that? Jeremy was just messing around, playing a few chords on his new ukulele, not worrying about anything for the future. This time one of the tears did fall. Michael always could see the beauty in normal, everyday moments. How could the next photo top this one?

The fifth photo was from the day they moved in. It was just after they had finished putting the sheets on their mattress, when Peaches had started barking from outside. Michael had let her in and she had immediately pounced on Jeremy's lap since he was sitting on the mattress, making him easy prey. Jeremy was mid laugh in the picture, peaches desperately trying to lick at his nose, but being held just out of reach. This one read ‘You’re My Favorite Person.’

Jeremy sputtered a laugh at this one and managed to say “You stole my favorite person line,” before shutting up and reveling in the moment. It wasn’t long ago, he remembered it well. None of these photos were ones he’d known were taken. It said a lot about Michael, how he appreciated the candid times. Jeremy almost didn’t want to move on to the next one; he didn’t want this to end. 

The final picture was from their last anniversary. They had gone out to dinner, which had been nice, but this picture had been taken after they had come back home. They had been slightly tipsy and not at all tired, so they ended up playing video games together until three am. The picture was from when they had just arrived home, Michael had an arm slung over Jeremy's shoulder and Jeremy held up an awkward peace sign as they both grinned into Michael's camera, which he was holding with his free hand. The words read 'The Best Boyfriend in the Universe.’

The tears were definitely falling now. Jeremy whipped around to face Michael. This was all incredibly sweet—and romantic—but why had he done it? What was going on? Jeremy couldn’t quite form the question, his lips quivering and eyes blinking back the salty water. He knew Michael would know what he wanted to say anyway. 

Michael, who had been watching Jeremy's reactions carefully as he went along, gave him a big, dopey grin. “Go in the room,” he urged, motioning to their bedroom door. “There's one more thing.”

Jeremy’s curiosity outweighed his confusion and he slowly turned the doorknob to their room. What could Michael have done? What could possibly be better than the scene in the hall?

As Jeremy stepped into the room, his eyes immediately landed on the large block letters painted on the wall above the bed. It read, in clean, clear writing, 'Will You Marry Me?’

Jeremy’s hand flew up to his mouth in shock. He read the message over and over again to make sure it really said what he thought it did. Any progress he’d made to stop crying was instantly crushed as a new set of larger tears fell down his cheeks. He hadn’t felt this big of an emotional onslaught since Junior year when he’d gotten lost in those damn woods. He’d disassociated then, but he’d gotten over doing that by now. He hadn’t had an episode in two years. This of course was a better type of emotional onslaught. He couldn’t believe it. He whipped around, just to destroy his doubts when he saw Michael on one knee, a small box in his hands and a crazy, sloppy grin on his face. 

Michael gulped looking up at Jeremy's crying face. “Jeremiah Heere,” he started, voice rough with emotion. “I've loved you for ten years. I can't imagine a life without you. We’ve been through hell and back together, and I would do it all again in a second. I decided, seven years ago, that I would marry you. I love you more than anything, you are my one and only. I bought this ring on the same day I bought the other one, and I figured now was a good time to finally put it to some use. So… Will you marry me?” He gave his boyfriend a dorky grin, meeting his eyes.

Jeremy couldn’t breathe. He stared wide eyed at Michael and the ring he held. He had really bought that seven years ago? Jeremy absently twisted the promise ring on his finger. Michael must have taken out a loan or something. Seven years ago they were both broke. They’d had to ask Rich for $200. A ring like that...if he’d taken a loan, he might even still be paying it off. And all for Jeremy? Of course it was all for Jeremy. Everything Michael did was for him. He was his sunshine. His light in the darkness. Jeremy hadn’t noticed when he started saying one word over and over again. But he didn’t stop. The word was “Yes.”

Michael’s grin widened as he got to his feet, pulling Jeremy into a desperate hug as he cried. Michael couldn't stop a couple of his own tears from falling as well. He pulled back, nimbly slipping the ring onto Jeremy's finger before pulling him in for a soft kiss. “I love you.”

Jeremy’s mouth was only capable of smiling. “M-Micah, you’ve g- you’ve given me absolutely n-no other choice but t-to love you, too. I- God, a-all I want is to keep coming home to you. You’re my home.” He was thinking out loud, but it did the trick. He secured the ring a little better and threw his arms around Michael’s shoulders, kissing him again, longer, his tears mixing with the taste of Michael’s lips. 

Michael smiled into the kiss, pulling away only to pepper the rest of Jeremy's face in light kisses. “You're my everything,” he whispered. “I'll be there for you, whenever you need, forever. I promise.”

Jeremy giggled, holding Michael’s face in his hands, staring into his eyes with the love of all the universe. “Did you really have to paint on the walls though?”

Michael laughed, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, seemed easier than coloring the letters in with a sharpie for five hours.”


	49. Epilogue: (please do not fuck dreams)

It was very early in morning, when they got the call. Roughly somewhere between 3 and 4 am. The couple had long since applied to the adoption agency. They filled out the paperwork and got cleared by all of the necessary screenings. They were put on a waiting list for months upon months. That is, until they got an offer. The woman was named Julia. She was Filipino, and kind. The boys got along well with her, she explained that the reason she was giving them up was because she was not in a place where she could care for them once they were born. They had meetings and more paperwork, and ungodly amounts of jargon that neither boy really understood, but then it had been set. Once Julia gave birth, the twin babies would go Michael and Jeremy. Was it coincidence, perhaps, that they somehow managed to reach their turn on the waiting list as soon as Julia, who was pregnant with twins, decided to give them up? Maybe. They didn't want to question their luck. 

They had been ecstatic, obviously. They already had the room all set up and all of the necessary things purchased. They even had decided on names. All they had to do was wait until they were born. That's why, at 3 in the morning, after Michael had blindly grabbed his ringing phone off of their bedside table and answered it with a groggy 'hello?’, he found himself suddenly very awake.   
“Hello, Mr. Mell-Heere, is it? You were on a list of people to be notified when Ms. Julia Farris went into labor. She is cur-” Michael didn't hear the rest. He was to busy trying to get the air back in his lungs from where it had been roughly expelled. His heart was pounding and he was only half aware as he finished the conversation on the phone with a couple of muttered 'uh-huh’s and 'yes, thank you’s. As soon as the call was ended, Michael was slamming on the lamp next to the bed, shaking Jeremy vigorously. 

“Jeremy! Holy shit, wake up!”

Jeremy groaned, swatting at his husband’s hand. “I don’t wanna hear your dream, tell me later,” he mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head. 

Michael shook him harder. “No, Jeremy, it's Julia!”

“You had a dream about Julia last week, let me sleep,” Jeremy said louder, shifting in the bed but not kicking Michael or Peaches by his feet. The dog seemed interested in why Michael was so excited. 

Michael groaned, pulling at the blankets to try and uncover Jeremy. “No!Fuck dreams! For fucks sake, Jerm, I just got a call from the fucking hospital! Wake the hell up!”

Jeremy groaned loudly and until all his breath exited his lungs. “We have tech week starting today, I need to–Shit, did you say the hospital?!” His eyes were suddenly wide open. 

“Yes! Fuck!” Michael confirmed, exasperated but no less urgent. 

Jeremy shot up, holding his head as the vertigo washed over him. All these years and he still suffered from SQUIP-related headaches, but he learned to manage them. “What did they say?!” 

Michael’s breath was coming in quick pants, and he was almost bouncing in place. “She's in labor! They should be delivered within the next 12 hours! Which means the social worker people will bring them _here_ in roughly 46 hours!” Michael had had a lot of time to figure out timings and things over the months. He always had been impatient.

Jeremy laughed with excitement. “You calculated the hours, babe? What a nerd. Let it be known that I married a nerd.” There was no way he could go back to sleep now. He probably wouldn’t be able to for, well, about 46 hours. The grin wouldn’t leave his face, either. 

Michael rolled his eyes, scoffing. “First of all, you're a nerd too. Secondly, I think what's more important right now is the fact that we’re gonna be dads soon! Like, _really soon_!” Michael's eyes were shining with excitement. “We're finally gonna get to meet our babies!”

“They’re gonna be perfect, Micah!” Jeremy promised. He had been imagining this moment for months. His heart overflowed with joy. “We’re actually gonna be _dads_! Our parents will have grandchildren!”

Michael beamed, throwing his arms around Jeremy's shoulders and pulling him into a hug. “Our family.” He whispered, starting to get a little choked up. “God, dude, do you know how long I've imagined this? An amazing, beautiful husband, and two perfect children. It's all I've ever wanted.”

“I dunno, Mikey, in middle school, you said all you ever wanted was tickets to Comic Con,” Jeremy said with a smug and familiar smile, hugging his husband with love in every bit of pressure he put into it. 

Michael scoffed, pinching Jeremy's shoulder. “Don't be rude I'm trying to have a moment, here.” He pouted.

“I’m just teasing you,” Jeremy defended. He swatted at Michael’s hand. “And that hurt.” He pouted. 

Michael pulled back, moving to lightly place a kiss over where he had pinched. “Fuck, Jeremy, I’m, like, literally speechless right now. I don't know what to say. Our babies! _Our Babies_!” Michael repeated, a starstruck expression taking over his face.

Jeremy returned to grinning and nodded enthusiastically. “Our babies!” he repeated. As if on cue, Peaches yipped at the foot of the bed, expressing her mutual excitement.

\------------

It was, roughly, 47 hours and 56 minutes before their doorbell rang. Michael, who had obviously taken off of work for paternity leave, froze in place where he had been folding laundry.

Jeremy had managed to get his understudy to go on for him during rehearsals, so he was also home, being useless as he was shit at folding clothes. As soon as the doorbell rang, he sprang up, karate chopping the shirt out of Michael’s hands and sprinting, dragging his husband along, to the door. 

Michael stumbled, bewildered, trying to keep up with Jeremy. “Wh- woah, Jeremy, calm down, I’m coming!” They both reached the doorway, Michael throwing it open quickly.

A woman who they recognized from the adoption agency stood before them, smiling. “Hello, boys! I’m sure you’re excited, huh? We have some final papers and such to sign, but we can do that in a couple days. I’m sure you two would like to meet your children, first, after all!” she stepped aside, revealing two baby carriers, each with its own small being in it. They couldn't quite see their faces yet, due to the blankets they had been wrapped in- (presumably to identify them by gender, seeing as one was blue and one was pink)- but there were _definitely_ babies in there.

Michael was basically shaking by the time the woman bent down to undo the straps securing the babies in the carriers. She carefully lifted them, one at a time, and placed one in each boys’ arms. She grinned at them, taking a step back. 

“Say hello to your kids! I’m sure they'll be very happy here. If you could, whenever you're ready, step out and speak with me for a moment? Take all the time you need.” She waved to them, pulling the door closed to give them privacy. She had worked this job long enough to know that this was going to be a very emotional moment for them, and it was only polite to leave them to themselves.

Michael was breathless as he stared down at the pink bundle in his arms. He looked at Jeremy, eyes shining with anticipation as he reached up, pulling the blanket away from her face. 

She was perfectly beautiful. Beautifully perfect. Her small face was relaxed- she was asleep- and Michael instantly fell in love. His heart melted in his chest. “Tala,” he whispered, looking back up to Jeremy with a watery grin. Tala. The name they had chosen for her. It originated from Tagalog, Michael's other language.

Jeremy already had tears running down his face. He laughed a little at Michael’s starstruck expression and shakily yet gently moved the blue cloth from in front of the other baby’s face. The infant was asleep like his sister, but he smiled as he breathed evenly. Jeremy was so in love with the baby that he forgot what they’d agreed on naming him. He forgot a lot, really; that someone was outside the door, that other people existed, that he’s never changed a diaper. He just sputtered wordlessly and tearfully at the baby in his arms. There really were no words he could say to express any of his feelings. 

Michael jumped slightly as the baby in his arms shifted slightly. He reflexively gasped, looking up at Jeremy with stunned eyes. “She moved!” Of course she moved, she's alive. For some reason, however, this was the thing that made it really hit Michael. “This is a tiny person! Like, a real live tiny person with a heart and brain and feelings! Holy shi– uh, I mean-” Michael caught himself at the last second looking down at the baby guiltily even though she was definitely too young to understand what they were saying. 

Jeremy didn’t take his eyes off of the sleeping baby boy in his arms. “Mikey, everything’s different now. Everything’s changed.” For once, that was a good thing. He leaned his head on his husband’s shoulder, still staring at the infant he held. 

Michael could feel the tears welling in his eyes, but he didn't really process himself crying. “We have a family,” he whispered hoarsely. His breath caught as Tala shifted again, a small noise escaping her lips. 

“J-Jeremy, Oh my god, she's waking up!” His eyes were glued to her face as her eyes blinked open. She looked up at Michael, blinking heavily. 

Jeremy managed to pry his gaze off of their new son to see their daughter’s sparkling brown eyes watching his husband intensely. “Oh,” he whispered to her, “hello, there.” He grinned, new tears falling down his cheeks. 

The baby's gaze shifted over to Jeremy lazily as she yawned, nearly giving Michael a full breakdown. “Ah!” He whined, “Okay, okay- we- we need to– is she still outside? Oh god, I don't ever want to put her down, Jeremy— Can we- I wanna see Benjie!” Michael was so excited he could barely finish a thought, stumbling over his words as his gaze shifted from the baby to the door to Jeremy to the boy in his husband's arms. Benjie. The name they had agreed on for the boy originated from Hebrew. They thought it was only fitting, one name from Tagalog and one Hebrew. 

Jeremy nervously laughed and gently tilted the sleeping baby up so Michael could see his face. He didn’t want to wake him, nor did he want to make him uncomfortable, so he held the infant at an awkward 30° angle. He watched his husband’s face as he took in the sight of their son. 

Michael automatically cooed at the baby, whispering excitedly. “He’s so small! They're _both_ so small, they're, like, the size of Princess! She could— Wait, _Princess_! We have to introduce her, where is she?” Michael spun around, eyes scanning the living room for the dog.

“Babe, she’s in her room,” Jeremy reminded him. They’d made Peaches her own little bedroom a few years back. She liked it a lot. Michael had painted little paws and bones on the walls. It was adorable. “Sh-shouldn’t we talk to the lady from the adoption agency first?”

Michael blinked, pouting. “She's still here?” She could probably hear him, and that was _probably_ a rude thing to say, but Michael was so excited he didn't want to deal with boring paperwork. “Okay, fine, you're right.” He relented, turning back to the door. 

“If you wanna talk to her, I-I’ll hold Tala,” Jeremy offered, feeling a little guilty for wanting to snatch the baby girl from Michael’s arms. They were both so small–probably a bit under the normal weight for babies–so Jeremy thought he could hold them at the same time with little to no problem. 

Michael laughed a little, nodding. “If Benjie's asleep I don't want to wake him, so I can talk to her alone. You can go take them and sit down or something. I’ll yell if we need you.” He gingerly shifted the baby, placing her carefully into Jeremy's free arm. He stopped, taking in the image before him. Jeremy, his husband, in their home, a baby in each arm. Michael forgot how to breathe for a minute. He coughed, clearing his throat and turning to slip out of the front door. He could marvel later; he had to finish up the adoption stuff first. 

Jeremy watched Michael go, smiling the whole time. Once he was sure his husband was now speaking about adoption things with the woman outside, he carried the children to the couch and sat down slowly, so he wouldn’t bother the babies. He reveled in the moment; the soft eyes of Tala watching every movement, the slight smile of Benjie wavering in his deep sleep. 

A couple minutes later Michael was re-entering their house, waving goodbye to the social worker as she drove away. He sighed, closing the front door and making his way into the living room. “Social workers are kinda scary.” he mumbled, dropping down onto the couch next to Jeremy. 

Jeremy had begun softly bouncing the babies in his arms and was still doing so when Michael sat beside him. “Aw, did the nice lady scare you?” he teased, still watching the infants. He didn’t think there was anything that could stop him from loving those babies and he’d only known them for about ten minutes. 

Michael scoffed, pouting at Jeremy. “Wow, so comforting and supportive, thanks Jerm.” He watched his husband idly bounce the babies. “Is Tala still awake?” They had been required to take some basic parenting classes- not that they had opposed- so Michael knew that, at this age, they were likely to sleep a good majority of the time if they didn’t need anything.

“Mhm,” Jeremy confirmed, his eyes softly glancing up to Michael. “She’s so perfect. They both are. I told you they would be.” He, too, remembered the classes they’d taken. The only other ‘students’ were pregnant women and occasionally their husbands. Michael and Jeremy had been by far the most enthusiastic and attentive. In fact, Jeremy could list every reason why formula is just as good as natural milk for newborns and how the myth surrounding it all was just that, a myth. Obviously, he and Michael had no way of easily obtaining milk, so formula was a safe alternative. 

Michael nodded, a dopey smile on his face. “We’ve come so far,” he whispered, thinking back to all those years ago. “This is all so… amazing. Sometimes I wonder if this is actually real, like, maybe I’m actually insane and imagining all of this.” He laughed a little. “We have everything we wanted now.”

Jeremy laughed, too. “If you’re insane, I’m insane with you.” Michael was right. The two of them had worked hard and earned what they’d promised themselves years ago. It felt indescribable, to be able to say that. The babies, his husband, their home, Peaches— As if on cue, the dog yipped from her room, followed by the sound of her little feet pattering on the hallway floor, getting louder as she trotted into the living room. “There she is!” Jeremy said, more to the babies than to Michael. 

Michael grinned, patting the couch next to him to beckon the dog over. “C’mere, Princess, there’s some people you need to meet.” Peaches obediently scampered over, hopping up onto the couch and climbing into Michael’s lap. Michael held her in place, looking her in the eyes with a serious expression. “Alright, Princess, listen now. These two are very small and very fragile. Be gentle with them, alright? No playing with them until they’re older.” He nodded at her, as though in confirmation. “Alright, girl, check this out.” Michael turned the dog in his lap until she faced Jeremy and the babies, but he kept his hands on her firmly, just incase she tried to do anything. 

Jeremy held the infants in a way so that if the dog jumped or anything, he could easily pull them away. For now, though, Peaches was only sniffing them, her tail wagging wildly. “She likes them!” Jeremy also thought it was cute how Michael often treated their pet as a child herself, and he saw it as a prediction of how he might act with these children. 

Michael nodded, still watching the dog carefully. While he didn’t think she would do anything bad, he still couldn’t help but keep his guard up. They were only just born, after all. You can never be too careful, right? He laughed a little when Peaches gave a tentative lick to Benjie’s nose, pulling away in alarm and confusion as he shifted away from it. He picked Peaches up, placing her on the floor gently. “Alright, that’s enough for now, it’s papa’s turn to fawn over the babies.” He turned back to Jeremy, holding his hands out in question. “Gimmie one of ‘em.”

Jeremy handed Michael the baby closest to him, Benjie. “I thought we agreed I was gonna be papa,” he complained. Maybe he’d dreamt that. No matter. It hardly meant anything to him what his children called him, as long as they loved him. 

Michael laughed, carefully taking the baby in his arms. “Yeah, but if I said daddy you might've gotten confused.” He teased, quirking an eyebrow. “That kink might be kinda fucked up now, by the way.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Then shouldn’t I _not_ be daddy?” He scoffed. “And this doesn’t mean our private lives are dead, Mikey.” He knew for a fact that parents get just as intimate as childless couples. 

Michael snorted and rolled his eyes. “I know, Jere. I'm teasing, ya big doof. And yes, you're papa. Mainly because I think I would, like, cry if they called you daddy.” 

“Thanks,” Jeremy mumbled. Tala had taken to sucking on one of her fingers a little, which would have been gross if it wasn’t adorable. 

Michael snickered, leaning over to kiss Jeremy on the cheek. “Any time, honey.” He paused, biting his lip. “Should we, like, tell our friends? That the babies are here?” He wasn't really sure what the proper etiquette was when it came to adopting children.

“Do we have to?” Jeremy whined. “I mean, so soon? I don’t want everyone crowding them. Can’t we have some time alone with our babies?” 

Michael smiled, laughing softly. “Such a protective papa,” he looked down at Benjie. “Yeah, Me too, though. They're so _good_.” Michael felt like he could hold them for hours and never get tired. Benjie shifted in his arms, face contorting as he woke up. 

Michael beamed at him, heart swelling. “Looks like someone is a grumpy boy when he wakes up.” The baby had a displeased expression, looking mildly perturbed to be awake. “Hiya, baby. I'm your dad!” 

Jeremy watched Michael interact with Benjie. It was so perfect. It really was everything they’d ever wanted. While he marveled, Jeremy noticed something. “Mikey, Tala’s getting fussy. What does she need?”

Michael glanced over at the small girl as she began flailing her arms and making small unhappy noises. “At this age it's either hungry, tired, or diaper.” He said, looking back at Jeremy. “My guess is hungry?”

“Do you want to feed her first?” Jeremy wasn’t very confident in his skills with a bottle. In class, he’d always spilled the formula everywhere. 

Michael perked up, getting to his feet. “Sure! But I have to go make the bottle first, so you take B—” he was cut off by a small cry from the boy in his arms. He looked down just as Benjie decided that crying quietly wasn't good enough, and began bawling loudly. “Maybe I should make _two_ bottles.”

Jeremy swiftly took the crying boy into his free arm. “Please hurry, dear,” he said, a smile on his lips. He gently bounced the two, trying to soothe them the best he could. 

Michael smiled as Jeremy tried to calm the twins, shuffling away into the kitchen. He loved his family. _His Family._ The words felt so foreign to him, but so pleasing at the same time. He had a perfect husband and two perfect kids. A loud cry pierced Michael's thoughts. Right. Two _hungry_ kids.

\---------

“Jere, Where's the- where's Tala’s lion?” Michael was shuffling around the living room in confusion, carefully stepping around the various scattered toys. The babies were 10 months old now, the days had passed in a domestic blur full of midnight bottles and dirty diapers. They had gotten into the swing of family life quickly. Jeremy was currently in the kitchen making dinner while Michael watched the twins play.

Jeremy called over his shoulder from the pan he was working with on the stove. “It’s not in her crib? That’s where I saw it last.” Tala loved her little lion. It was soft and just big enough that she could rest against it, but small enough to be portable. The twins had an innumerable amount of plushies and other such toys; Michael and Jeremy loved to spoil them. 

Michael grimaced. “I could've _sworn_ we grabbed it when they were getting up from their nap. Where– Benjie, no, don't eat that!” Michael hurried over to the boy, quickly bending down to pull the TV remote from his grip. He quickly replaced it with a small stuffed elephant so the he wouldn't get upset. Michael stood back up with a huff, eyeing the slobbery remote. Wait, how did the remote get on the floor? He thought he had put it– “I found the lion,” he called, stepping over to the TV stand. Whoops.

Jeremy turned the stove off, but didn’t turn away. “Good! Let her play with it. Does Ben have his elephant?” He always liked knowing the twins had something with them to keep them happy. Whether that was a toy, each other, or Jeremy and Michael themselves. He loved seeing their smiles and hearing those precious giggles. 

Michael handed the stuffed lion to Tala where she was crawling across the carpet. She took it, holding it in one hand as she continued on her journey. “Yeah, we’re good.” He sighed. Being a parent was amazing, but it was very tiring. He sat down in the middle of the room so that he could easily reach either child if anything happened. He watched Tala as she approached the couch, using it as leverage to pull herself up onto two legs. “Woah there, Tali, pulling some advanced moves over there!”

Jeremy put the food to the side so it could cool and walked into the room with Michael. “What’s she doing?” he asked as he approached them, the angle of how he was standing making it hard to see Tala on the floor. On the other side, he clearly saw Benjie hugging his toy and smiling. 

“Advanced mountain climbing. Couch edition.” He smiled at her as she turned to look back at him. “Explorer extraordinaire.” Tala frowned at him, sudden looking very concentrated. 

“Don’t let her fall, Mikey,” Jeremy warned, walking around Benjie’s super jumper and sitting on the floor next to his husband. Indeed, their daughter was trying very hard. 

Michael moved slightly closer in case she fell. “Why does she look so—” she moved a leg forward, pushing off of the couch. She wavered, but stayed up. Michael froze.

Jeremy was frozen as well, staring at the wobbling baby. “Is she–” He was too invested, eager not to miss a single second of this, to finish his question. Besides, he knew Michael was thinking the same thing. 

Michael held his breath. He locked eyes with Tala. She moved towards him. Two shaky steps before she tumbled into Michael's hands. Two steps. Her _first_ two steps. “Tala!” he cheered, standing up. He lifted her above his head, spinning around excitedly, much to her delight. She giggled wildly as Michael whooped. 

Jeremy was ecstatic. “What a smart girl!” he praised, even if she couldn’t understand. “We didn’t even have to prompt you!” He stood so he could see Tala better. “We didn’t get that recorded, did we?” 

Michael shook his head, dumb smile on his face. “Live in the moment, Jere.” As he said this, Benjie, not one to be left out, quickly crawled over to Jeremy. He clambered up into his lap awkwardly, grabbing at Jeremy's shirt for attention.

Jeremy pulled his son into a sort of hug and bounced him absently. “It would be a miracle if this one learned to walk.” Benjie wasn’t a slow learner, more of a lazy one. It actually showed he was pretty smart. He knew if he whined a little, he’d be carried where he wanted to go and wouldn’t have to do any work himself. 

Michael laughed, placing Tala down in front of him and holding her hands to keep her upright on two feet. “I dunno, a little jealousy can go a long way, Miah.” He urged her forward, helping her step towards Jeremy.

Jeremy knew that to be true. Never in a million years had he expected a random guy with a dog in a park to make him jealous enough to marry Michael. Well, maybe it wasn’t that hard to believe. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, holding one hand out to beckon Tala. 

Michael helped her forward, only letting go when she was close enough to Jeremy that he could catch her. She managed three steps on her own. Michael beamed proudly. “Jeremy! This is crazy! Our _daughter_ is learning how to _walk_! When did we even get to this point in life?”

“We took the long way around, but now it feels like we just blinked in high school and here we are, huh?” Jeremy was astonished at their progress. Around this time nearly a decade ago, they’d been confused hormonal teenagers dealing with a power far beyond themselves. Now, Jeremy was holding both their children. “Isn’t it amazing?”

Michael bounced on his feet excitedly. “It's awesome!” He could hardly remember the days in the past anymore, memories of Halloween bathrooms were gradually being replaced by newer, more important things. Like his little girl’s first steps. Of course, Michael knew he would never really forget, the entirety of Junior year was etched into his brain like graffiti on a wooden table. But he hardly cared about it anymore. “Hey, Jeremy?”

Jeremy looked up from Tala’s smile. “Yeah, Micah?” He was grinning, in total bliss. 

Michael bent down, pulling Jeremy into a soft kiss. “I love you more than life.” He kissed him again. Michael felt it was important, still, to remind Jeremy of this every day. 

Jeremy laughed softly. “I know.” He did know. “I love you even more than that.”

Michael scoffed, taking Benjie from his husband's arms. “That's cheating, you can't just say 'more than that’.” 

“More than the universe?” Did that make sense? Probably not. Jeremy pulled Tala in his lap where Benjie was. 

Michael hummed, eyeing him skeptically. “Fine I'll accept it, but you're on thin ice, pal.”

“I’ll show you thin ice,” Jeremy replied before he realized that made less sense than what he’d said before. “Nevermind,” he added, embarrassed. 

Michael laughed, leaning down to kiss Jeremy again. “You're still the same doof I married.” He sat down, placing Benjie on the floor in front of him. He immediately crawled back into Michael's lap. Michael chuckled, grabbing the boy in a hug. “You're almost as needy as your Papa.”

“Hey, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jeremy retorted, placing Tala on her feet again as she wobbled. “We’re gonna have to start baby-proofing stuff higher up. They’ll reach a lot more sharp corners now.”

Michael hummed, absently playing with Benjie's hands. “Foam, foam, and more foam. We live in a foam house.” Michael wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying, instead focusing on the child in his arms.

“We should move into a bouncy castle. Those are fun.” Jeremy caught Tala as she fell, having taken two more steps on her own. She giggled, wanting back up immediately, to which Jeremy happily obliged. 

“I almost made a really crude joke, but then I didn't because the kids are with us. So you were spared for today, Heere.”

“How could you make a bouncy castle cru–” Jeremy nodded in shame as he understood. “Thanks for not saying that.”

Michael grinned wickedly. While their private life had been slightly hindered due to the constant tending to the children, it _definitely_ wasn't gone. “Nap time is daddy time, y’know.” Michael still loved teasing Jeremy, even after all these years.

“Oh, stop,” Jeremy said, his face turning red as it always had. Some things never change. 

\---------

It was a month later when Benjie made his debut. They had the twins in their highchairs as they prepared their dinner, Michael was mixing up their bottles as Jeremy fed them small foods like Cheetos and cereal. 

Jeremy put some cereal on their trays and watched Benjie try and grab his finger. He pushed the pieces closer to his son and smiled. He turned to fix Tala’s bib, but heard something. Benjie was whining, yet it didn’t sound quite right. Jeremy turned back to him in an instant, worried that something was wrong. “Michael?” he called, not taking his eyes off of Benjie. Before Michael could answer, Benjie started sputtering. Jeremy stood up in fear. 

Benjie’s mouth was moving overtime. “T-T-” he stammered. 

Jeremy then understood. “Michael!” he yelled again, louder. “Benjie’s saying something!” He didn’t check to see if his husband was coming. He just kept looking at his son in amusement. 

“T-Ta-”

“What is it, Benny?” Jeremy prompted. “What are you saying?”

“Ta- Tal-”

“C’mon, baby, you can do it!”

“T-Tala! Ta- Tala!”

Michael yelped behind Jeremy. “Oh my God! His first word! And it was- Oh my _God_ , Jerm!” He was very excited.

“He said it! Tala, he said your name! Benjie, we’re so proud of you!” Jeremy put his hand on his son's head, rubbing his soft hair in praise. 

Tala looked up at the call of her name, blinking confusedly. Michael grabbed Jeremy's shoulders from behind. “Jeremy! They're learning things! Walking _and_ talking! Holy Sh— uh, I mean-”

Jeremy put his free hand on one of Michael’s. “Micah! They’re growing up!” He felt tears coming up. 

Michael whined slightly. “That's not allowed! If they grow up then they'll get older and meet people who can touch them and hurt them and love them and then they'll leave us and start their own families and Oh my God, What if we get to be _grandparents?_ ” Michael's mind was going a million miles a minute, emotions all over the place. 

“Michael! They’re babies! What happened to living in the moment?” Jeremy chastised, still watching Benjie mumble around his cereal. 

Michael flapped his arms awkwardly. “The moment is too fast! Slow the moment down!” Tala reached over to take some cereal off of Benjie's tray, making Michael temporarily snap out of his panic. “Tala, no, you have your own, stop that.” He moved closer, feeding her a Cheeto. “No taking stuff from your brother.”

Benjie took the opportunity to yell Tala’s name several times in a tone somewhat mimicking Michael’s. Jeremy hushed him by pushing some more cereal to him, which he happily stuffed into his mouth. “Really, Micah? This moment is too fast?”

Michael pouted, crossing his arms. “I dunno, man, I just… I feel like they only just got here and now they're walking and talking!” He sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips and he turned back to the babbling babies. “But, I guess that's life, huh?”

“Guess that’s life, babe,” Jeremy agreed, getting up to tend to where Tala had spit out some cheeto. “It’s a real mess, huh? But it’s ours, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”


	50. Epilogue: (Please Do Not Fuck Dates)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s been a wild ride  
> but it’s time for this to end  
> in memory of Jeremy and Michael’s first kiss and in honor of Valentine’s day coming up, have the twins getting their first loves~  
> a gift from us to you  
> -elliot

Michael hummed quietly to himself as he cooked. He was, as per usual, the first one in the house to wake up, so he took it upon himself to make breakfast. He didn't have to go to work until 10, which gave him plenty of time to take care of everything he needed to do without worry.

Jeremy had never been a fan of getting up early. Once the kids had started school, the bliss of sleeping in until work had been ripped away from his grasp. Years of getting up and making lunches and dressing the twins had still not made Jeremy Mell-Heere a morning person. The smell of his husband’s cooking usually woke him up, however. He awoke to the aroma of eggs and toast, instantly sitting up. Another day, another family breakfast. 

Michael paused, glancing at the clock on the wall beside the oven. 6:30. The kids would be in soon. Five minutes later, as expected, the thump of feet was heard coming down the hall. 

“Dad, Ben’s been in the bathroom for ten minutes and I still need to shower!” 

Michael smiled, not turning from the skillet. “Morning, Tali.”

The sound of a loud sigh came from the bathroom, muffled by the door and distance. “My hair is a process!” It was Benjie, of course. “Just because I woke up first this time doesn’t mean you get the bathroom first!”

Michael laughed, turning to yell down the hallway. “Three more minutes, Benjie, then it's your sister’s turn, got it?”

“Got it,” was the disgruntled reply. Ben returned to—now rapidly—styling his hair. He always put his glasses on last, so that he could see his masterpiece all at once. 

“Tali, can you go make sure your Papa is up? He’s gonna be grumpy if he wakes up late again.”

Tala nodded, turning to wander back down the hallway and into the master bedroom. “Papa, are you awake?”

Jeremy smiled dazedly at his daughter. “Unfortunately,” he answered. “Is breakfast done?” He really couldn’t resist a Michael cooked meal. 

Tala nodded, walking over to the bed and climbing in with Jeremy. “Yeah, I think so. Ben’s obsessing over his hair again. What is it with dudes and their hair, anyway? Are all high schoolers like that?”

Jeremy shifted so Tala could climb in. “Eh, pretty much. I never really took care of mine. It was sad.” He often looked back to high school times in embarrassment. His hair was always greasy and gross. 

Tala laughed, snuggling up to her father. “I don't want to imagine you in highschool, it's weird. You and Dad were never kids. It's illegal.”

Jeremy laughed. “We were definitely kids, Tali. It feels long ago, but we were.” He could sit there with Tala all day and tell her stories, but he had work and the kids had school. Another time. “Let’s go eat. You don’t want your dad’s cooking to go to waste, huh?”

Tala jumped out of the bed with a sigh. “Yeah, I would _like_ to take a shower first, though.” She grimaced, stalking out of the room. “Ben, are you _done_ yet!?”

Jeremy shook his head to himself and followed Tala out the door. 

“Five seconds!” Benjie yelled back, admiring his reflection in the mirror. His hair was good enough. He threw the door open, the smell of hair care products and soap breaching into the hallway. “All yours,” he said to his sister as he strutted past. 

Tala rolled her eyes as he passed. “You're like a peacock with that hair. One day I'm going to shave it off while you sleep.” 

“I’d get you back,” he retorted. “Or dad will!” He sauntered into the kitchen like normal. 

Jeremy followed him, patting Tala’s head as he walked by. “No shaving your brother.”

Michael snickered at the bickering. “Or, at least, if you do, let me join you! We can do your papa, too!” 

Tala laughed as she closed the bathroom door. 

Jeremy kissed Michael’s cheek as he walked around him toward the table. “No shaving your husband.”

Benjie sighed from his seat. He was looking at his phone, disgruntled. 

Michael snorted, moving the plates of food over to the table. “What's with the sour face, Benj? Sad that we can't shave Papa's sad beard off?”

Jeremy tilted his head. “Sad?” He’d worked hard on that beard. 

Benjie laughed a little at his parents’ bickering, but it died off. “It’s nothing,” he said. 

Michael quirked an eyebrow. “Doesn't sound like nothing.” He slid into his seat, propping his elbows up on the table. “You wanna talk?”

Benjie sighed again, setting his phone down. “It’s just– How did you ask Papa out for the first time?”

Jeremy raised his eyebrow, but said nothing. This should be interesting. 

Michael's eyebrows shot up. “Uh, well, it was kinda weird because we were best friends for twelve years beforehand. And he thought he was straight. It's a long story. But, uh, anyway, why do you ask? Boy troubles?”

Benjie was full of sighs. “Honestly? Yeah,” he admitted. He blushed a little. 

Jeremy looked up from his plate. “Benny’s got a crush, huh?”

Michael laughed empathetically. “Ah, well...I’m gonna be honest, son, I’ve only ever dated one person. I'm probably not great with advice about this kinda thing. But, anyway, is it anyone we might know?”

Benjie winced. “You might...know him…”

Jeremy leaned in. “Really?” He wanted to tell Michael that he was probably the best to ask for advice since he’d dated one person and ended up marrying him. But, his son’s crush was more interesting. 

Michael perked up. “Is it someone you’ve had over before? One of your classmates? Is it that kid, uh, what's his name? Seb? Oh! Is it your friend Daniel?”

Benjie shook his head. “No, they’re too tall for me.”

Jeremy took a bite of his toast. “Then who is it? Don’t leave us hanging.”

“It’s...It’s Justin,” Benjie said, wincing at the embarrassment. 

Michael choked, coughing harshly. “Justin _Goranski_?” There's no way.

“What other Justin is there?” Benjie asked harshly. 

Jeremy’s eyes were wide. “Oh my god, Ben.”

Michael gathered himself quickly. “Oh my God, Benjie, I had a crush on his dad- the short one- when we were in middle school!”

Jeremy interrupted Benjie’s answer. “You what?” His eyes were even wider now, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Oh geez,” Benjie mumbled. His dads were incredibly embarrassing sometimes. 

Michael turned to Jeremy, smiling sheepishly. “Well, what can I say? He was cute, you were straight- Middle school is a strange time. It doesn't matter, anyway. I got a crush on you and he became an asshole for a while. It happens.”

Jeremy gave his husband the side-eye and went back to eating skeptically. 

“An asshole?” Benjie echoed. “Huh?”

Michael shrugged. “It's another long, long story, kid. It's for another time. He's fine now. Anyway, tell me more about this Justin. What's he-” Michael's digging was interrupted as an excited Tala bounded into the room, hair wet and dressed for the day. 

“Yo! Are we talking about Ben’s _super_ obvious crush?” She scampered to the table, sliding into the seat across from Benjie. “Dude, seriously, just ask him out already. All you two do is make heart eyes at each other for the entirety of Math class. It's gross. And distracting.”

“We do not! He doesn’t even notice me! Shut up!” Benjie was redder than before. So much for trying to actually talk about his feelings. 

Jeremy rolled his eyes at the situation. “Tala, don’t tease your brother. These things take time.” God knew it had taken him long enough to finally get with Michael. 

Tala pouted as she reached for some toast. “I'm just saying! He's wasting his time pining like that, I mean, the whole damn school knows they're into each other.” Tala paused, laughing awkwardly. “Uh, I mean, the whole _dang_ school.”

Jeremy was going to retort with a lesson based off his experience with crushes, but Benjie slammed his fork on the table. “At least I can pick one person to like! And you call _me_ obvious? God, you should see yourself around either one of those two! You’re a complete mess!”

Michael looked to Jeremy in surprise. He knew they should probably stop them before they got too into their argument, but he was too intrigued to say anything.

Tala scoffed indignantly, blushing heavily. “S-Shut up! It's not my fault! They're both so…” she paused, looking distracted. “Ugh! This is dumb! I hate this! I don't _want_ to crush on a guy _and_ his sister!”

Michael was, to say the least, thoroughly invested in this conversation.

“You should stop torturing everyone and ask one out! Weren’t you joining the stupid drama club thing for them anyway?” Benjie didn’t really think drama was stupid. His father was a pretty well known actor on Broadway, after all. He was just upset that his sister would be spending less time with him. “The things you do for the Canigulas.”

Jeremy’s eyes shot up. “Canigulas?” This conversation just kept getting...worse? “Christine’s kids? Really, Tala?” He and Michael must have been oblivious. How could he miss that his daughter was crushing on not one, but both of his friend’s children? A friend who he himself had fancied in his own junior year of high school? Not to mention Ben’s crush on a Goranski. 

Tala whined pitifully, looking down at her plate. “I can't help it! She's so smart and pretty and sweet, but he's so cute and nice and _sweet_ ,” she huffed, looking to Michael. “Dad! Do something! Tell him to shut up!” 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Oh hush. Benjie, stop taking out your anger on your sister. Tala, stop teasing him.” He sipped on his glass of water. “You guys must be really in deep, huh? The only times I've ever seen pining _this_ intense was when Jeremy had a crush on Christine and I had a crush on him.” 

Benjie set aside his anger for enough time to sigh and say, “Tell us something we don’t know.”

Jeremy blinked. “I’d really like this conversation to not be about me and my bad choices.” His voice still cracked after all the years. 

Tala sighed, grimacing. “Okay, but, for real, you need to make your move soon, Ben. I heard that Jason was gonna ask him out soon. Don't miss your shot just because you’re scared.”

“Is everyone in your class gay?” Jeremy marveled. Benjie ignored it. 

“I’m not scared! I _know_ he doesn’t like me!”

Tala scoffed. “And how, exactly, do you know that?”

“If he liked me, he would still talk to me, wouldn’t he? He completely shut us off last year, remember? Even Papa remembers that,” Benjie spat as an afterthought. 

Jeremy coughed awkwardly. “Well, I do remember Jake and Rich saying Justin was getting ‘busy’ lately.” He put air quotes around ‘busy’. 

Michael cut in. “Wait, what? What do you mean he cut you off? Just out of nowhere?” That sounded… upsettingly familiar.

“He’s on the football team or something,” Benjie explained, picking at his food. “It’s time consuming or whatever.” He paused. “Not football, frisbee golf.”

“What the hell is frisbee golf?”

Tala cut in again. “Ben, look, seriously. He's into you. I can tell. Everyone can tell. If you don't ask him out soon, I will.”

“You’ll what?” Benjie squeaked. Even through adoption, he favored Jeremy in that way. Since puberty, his voice had been all over the place. “Why would you do that?!”

Tala grinned deviously. “He’s cute. Anyway, it would be more progress than you’ve made. Plus it might make people jealous. Jealousy is very effective.”

Jeremy nodded in agreement, but it was really only for Michael to see. 

Benjie scowled. “You have your own crushes! You always take my stuff! Let me have _something_! That’s not fair!”

Tala’s grin never faltered. “Then _take him_!” 

Michael sighed, eyebrows raised. He looked to Jeremy with a smirk. Teenage drama is always the same, huh?

Jeremy playfully shrugged from his seat and took a smug bite of his eggs. Nothing changes. 

“He doesn’t like me!” Benjie reiterated. 

Tala groaned loudly, throwing her head back. “ _Yes he does!_ ”

“Then prove it at school today!” Benjie all but screamed, fists clenched. 

Jeremy cleared his throat. “As entertaining as this was, I have to be the responsible adult–” He looked at Michael. “–and break this up.” He stood, putting his plate away. “Time to go, kids.” 

Michael pouted as he watched them get up. “Boo! It was just getting good! C’mon, Jere, this is the most entertainment we can get these days!” He stood, moving around the table to kiss each child on the forehead. “Have good days, kids. Ben, ask the guy out. Tala, don't… Tali, just please don't.”

Benjie groaned as Jeremy got in line for a kiss. It was like this every day. Jeremy puckered up and waited, the kids standing by the door impatiently. 

Michael smiled, leaning in to kiss him carefully. “Love you, Miah. Have a good day.” He pecked his husband's lips again.

Jeremy grinned, winking at his husband before following the kids out the door. “Don’t leave me behind!” he called. 

Tala called back from a couple feet ahead. “Stop kissing up on dad and hurry up, then!”

“I’m coming, jeez,” Jeremy said as he closed the door. He caught up with them easily. Usually, the walk to the subway was uneventful, but he felt that they had a lot to talk about. 

Before Jeremy could ask, Benjie spoke up. “Do you think Justin likes me, Papa?” He purposely ignored his sister. 

Jeremy couldn’t just say yes or no, he knew his son would ask why. “Just ask him, Benny.”

Benjie groaned. “You’re no help.”

Tala yawned, stretching her arms out above her head. “He does, Ben. Promise. You know I wouldn't lie about this.”

“I don’t! I don’t know that!” Benjie yelled. 

Jeremy wasn’t the best with helping the twins get over fights and arguments. In fact, once, he was so bad at it that an old lady who had seen his feeble attempts had thought he was actually kidnapping them. Their differences in complexion didn’t help his story. 

Tala pouted, slowing down slightly so that Jeremy could catch up. “Papa, tell Ben I'm not a liar.” 

“Tali, you know I don’t take sides,” Jeremy reminded. Benjie only groaned from a couple feet ahead. 

Tala hummed thoughtfully, grabbing Jeremy's hand and pulling it over her shoulders as they walked. “Fine, I’ll just have to prove that he likes him.”

Jeremy didn’t protest; he enjoyed it when his children showed interest in being with him, especially now that they were older. “Guess so, huh?”

Benjie sighed. “I hate school.”

\---------

Michael sat in his car outside of the high school, waiting for class to let out. He browsed idly on his phone. 

The bell rang, and unlike usual, Benjie was the first one out the doors, making a beeline alone toward Michael’s car. The other students came out randomly, Tala among them. 

Michael straightened up as Benji slid into the car. “Hey, what's up, buddy, What's with the rush?”

Benjie’s face was red. The blush hadn’t subsided at all since it had appeared. His voice was high. “I’ll tell you later.”

Michael blinked in confusion, but didn't pry further as Tala got into the car. 

“I proved it! I was right, Dad!” She seemed very proud of herself.

Michael's eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What? Right about what?”

“Don’t you dare say another word,” Benjie warned his sister, his intimidation skills severely lacking due to the cracking his voice was doing. 

Tala grinned but didn't say anything. 

Michael sighed, starting up the car. “Ben, what is happening right now?”

“A lot.” Benjie scooted further to the side of the car Tala wasn’t on so he’d be at an adequate distance from her. Despite the circumstances and the result of those circumstances, he was angry at her. 

Tala watched him move away, scoffing. “You're not actually mad at me, are you?” She had helped him! Why would he be mad?

“I kinda am! So stop bothering me!” Benjie was feeling too many emotions for one ride home. 

Michael was marginally better at breaking up their fights. While Jeremy had always been the more authoritative one, Michael could be very intimidating if need be. “Hey, cut it out you two. No fighting, especially in the car. We can all talk it out when we get home.”

Tala sighed, crossing her arms with a huff. “Fine.”

Benjie just rolled his eyes, his face still a deep red. He didn’t want to talk it out if Tala was going to be there to rub it in his face. 

\-------

As they arrived home, Michael sighed. They still weren't talking to each other. Something had obviously happened at school today, but Michael thought it would be better to just wait until Jeremy got home before trying to sit them down.

Tala had immediately grabbed Peaches and stalked off to her room. She was mad that Benjie was mad. Couldn't he see that she was just trying to help? A little appreciation would be nice! Stupid brothers.

Benjie scoffed and sat himself on the couch, making his body small. If Tala was gonna lock herself in her room, maybe he could tell Michael what had happened without her interference. But would he approve? Benjie would be able to think better if he had Peaches. They all knew she loved him the most. Well, maybe after Jeremy. He watched Michael walk around, contemplating whether or not to just tell him now, so that Tala wouldn’t know. 

Michael wandered into the living room, throwing himself down on the couch next to Benjie. “Hey, son. What's up.”

“If I tell you now, will you make me tell it again when Papa gets home?” Benjie didn’t want to tell the story more than once. His heart might just implode. 

Michael thought it over. “I mean, if you want to wait till he gets home, you can. Or I could tell him later.” He shrugged. It didn't really matter that much. He just wanted Benjie to feel better.

“Later might mean Tala listening,” Benjie pouted. “I really can’t handle her ‘I told you so’ face.”

“What's that supposed to mean? Did something happen?” Of course something happened, Michael, you wouldn't be doing this is nothing had happened. He wasn't the best when it came to heart to hearts. He was still learning.

“You know what it means!” Benjie’s face turned an even darker shade of red. He ran a hand through his hair. “You _know_ what it means.”

Michael perked up, turning to face his son fully. “Did something happen with Justin? Was it good or bad?”

Benjie covered his face with his arms, resting on his knees, his heels pulled up with him on the couch. “It was _so_ good,” he answered. 

Michael beamed at Benjie's flustered form. “Ben! That's amazing! What happened?!” He flapped his arms excitedly at his sides, unsure what to do with them. “Wait, why are you mad at you sister, again?”

Benjie’s expression turned sour again. “She locked me in a fu– freaking closet with him!”

Michael blinked. “She _what_?”

“I was walking to lunch and she just shoves me into a supply closet! And then the door opens again and she shoved Justin in too and–” Benjie groaned. “We couldn’t get out! She blocked the door!”

“Well what happened while you were in there?”

Benjie averted his gaze from Michael’s eyes. He mumbled something in embarrassment, muffled by his arms in front of his face. 

“Benny, I can't hear you like that.” Michael pouted, petting Benjie's hair soothingly. 

Benjie raised his head. “I made out with him, okay?!” He shoved his face immediately back into place in his arms. 

Michael gaped in surprise. “Wh-” wait, how did he get from point a to point b? “Are you two dating now?”

“I don’t know!” Benjie yelled. “Things were getting intense and then lunch was over! I didn’t see him after that!”

Michael let out a surprised laugh. “Damn, Ben. Sounds like you have a big ol’ mess right now, huh?”

“You think?!” Benjie squeaked. “This is a nightmare! What if it was a one time thing? What if it was a mistake?!”

Michael threw an arm over Benjie's shoulders, pulling the boy into his side. “Oh, Son, I remember thinking those same things the first few times me and your papa kissed. It was even worse because he insisted he was straight at the time. I'm sure it meant something to him, too. Did he say anything? Before you two got split up?”

“Uh,” Benjie said, “he told me he had math class and then he left.” He groaned. “Wait, what do you mean you were kissing Papa when he thought he was straight?”

Michael blushed suddenly. “Uhh, long story?”

“Sounds like harassment to me.”

Michael scoffed, flicking Benjie in the back of the head. “It was not harassment! I had full consent! He agreed to it!”

“But he was straight?”

Michael pouted. “Shut up! I was just as confused as you are! Ask him when he gets home, it was weird to me, too!”

“Yeah, okay,” Benjie trailed off in confusion. “Anyway. I kissed Justin.”

“Which is progress! How was it?” Michael felt kinda weird discussing this kind of thing with his son, but he supposed it had to be done eventually. No reason to beat around the bush.

Benjie hesitated. “Fine.” He didn’t want to be talking about this with his dad, but the only other person he could talk to was Tala, and he was very adamant on being angry at her. 

Michael hummed thoughtfully. “Did you guys talk about anything or, like, just instantly get to it? How did you end up in this situation?”

“I wasn’t planning on telling you the details, dad,” Benjie grumbled. It was incredibly awkward already, especially since Michael seemed so invested. 

Michael grumbled to himself. “Well, Damn.” He was really curious, now. He perked up quickly. “I can't believe my baby boy finally had his first kiss! I'm so proud,” he hugged him dramatically. “Wait 'till papa finds out.”

Benjie shoved Michael off. “I’m starting to really regret telling you anything.”

Michael laughed. “No! I'm just messing around Ben, really. Besides I-” he was cut off by a knock on the door. “Who is- ugh. I got it.” Michael got to his feet, shuffling to the front door. He pulled it open. “Oh! Hey!”

Rich smiled, waving to him. “Heya, Mikey. Sup? Is this a bad time? We came over to visit, since it's been a while. Justin seemed very adamant about it, for some reason.”

Jake was standing behind his husband, their son even further behind him. “He wouldn’t tell us why,” he emphasized, clapping Justin on the back softly but still hard enough to make a sound. 

From the living room, a hesitant voice called out. “Who is it, dad?” Benjie asked, worried his suspicions may be true. 

Michael grinned, stepping aside to let them in. “It's the Goranski’s, here to visit! Jeremy should be home soon.” 

Rich stepped inside, still smiling. “He's still got that gig on Broadway, huh? Good for him.”

Jake followed Rich inside, tugging Justin along with him. “We always knew he had it in him.”

At the sight of Justin and his family, Benjie squeaked. He couldn’t face them now! He couldn’t face _Justin_! Why were they even here?!

Justin shuffled behind his parents awkwardly, fidgeting with his hands as he turned to Michael. “Uh, Hey, Mr. Mell-Heere! Is, um.. Is Benjie here?”

Michael's smile softened at the boy's nervousness. “He's in the living room. You better hurry if you want to catch him.” He winked at him subtly, making Justin blush. 

“Uh, r-right. Thank you!” He scrambled off into the living room in search of the other boy.

Jake watched him go. “Any idea what that’s about?” 

Michael hummed thoughtfully, smirking. “I’ll tell you when Jeremy gets home.”

Jake shrugged and the three of them entered conversation about one thing or another. 

Meanwhile, in the living room, Benjie stared at Justin like a deer caught in the headlights. He was frozen, unable to think of anything to say to him. 

Justin stood anxiously in the doorway, blushing heavily. “Um, hey.”

“Hi,” Benjie managed awkwardly. He didn’t understand what was happening. One second he was talking to his dad about his first kiss, the next second the boy he kissed was standing in his living room?

Justin gulped, stepping closer to the couch. “Can we, um… talk?”

Benjie sighed. Of course Justin was going to tell him that day in the closet was a mistake. Why wouldn’t he? It would be better to just accept it and get it over with. “Sure,” he said, trying to sound casual. 

Justin sat on the couch carefully, as if moving too suddenly would frighten Benjie away. “So, uh… about today..”

“Right,” Benjie replied, still trying to seem casual and calm. “What about it?” A small part of him hoped Justin wouldn’t say it was a mistake or a joke. 

Justin cracked almost immediately. “Well, when we were, y’know.. in the closet, and then you- you _kissed_ me and it was really really good, but then your sister opened the door up and you ran away and I couldn't find you until the end of the day, but you were, like, running away, and I don't know what this means for us, if anything? Maybe I'm just being presumptuous, y’know? Like, ha-ha Justin the gay kid with the gay dads and the crush on the other gay kid who _also_ has gay dads just got pranked because he doesn't like him back and he only kissed him because it was just, like, something to pass the time, or, or-” he sighed heavily, cutting off his rambles abruptly. “Sorry, I got, um… carried away.” He looked down at his lap anxiously.

Benjie shook his head. Was he following Justin correctly? “You think I was pranking you?” He thought Justin was pranking him! What was going on here? Was it true? Justin really did like him? Or was this _part_ of the prank on him?

Justin stammered dumbly. “W-Well, I— uh, maybe? Wh- um, What- I mean, _were you_?”

Benjie blinked in surprise. “ _Definitely_ not! I swear!” It was all he could think of to say. 

“S-So, um… D-Does that mean you… like.. me?” Justin felt like his face was on fire.

Benjie closed his eyes and sighed. Now or never. It wasn’t like this would be the first time. “You tell me,” he muttered, leaning forward and almost tentatively placing his lips on Justin’s now familiar soft ones. 

Justin gasped into the kiss, pressing forward slightly. They had gotten fairly… into it, in the closet, earlier. This kiss was soft, caring. It was perfect. Or at least, it would've been, if they hadn't been abruptly interrupted.

“Micah? Are you home? Your car is out front, so I guess you are,” Jeremy said as he walked in. “I totally bombed that bowling party, I only got a 73.” He kept walking further inside, hanging his coat on the rack. “I even had the bumpers. You should have seen Will go at it, though, he–” He stopped when he looked up and there was a lack of his husband in the living room. Instead, he’d walked in on his son kissing his childhood friend. 

Benjie didn’t let go of where he’d put his hand on Justin’s arm. “ _Papa!_ ”

Tala, having heard his voice, quickly came running out of her room. “Papa, Ben’s been acting– oh,” She came to a stop, looking at the pair on the couch. 

Michael strolled casually into the living room, slinging an arm over Jeremy's shoulder. “Nice, everyone's here!” He pecked Jeremy on the lips in greeting. “Did you have a good day?”

Jeremy kept his eyes on Benjie and Justin, but leaned into Michael’s touch easily. “I only bowled a 73,” he mumbled. 

Benjie’s face was a deeper red than it had been when Michael had picked the twins up from school. He couldn’t believe what was happening. To top it off—as if Tala reemerging hadn’t been enough—Justin’s dads came around the corner, too. Jake looked especially pleased, but said nothing, only resting his chin on Rich’s head. 

Tala cleared her throat, blinking in confusion. “Um? What's- What is happening right now?”

Jeremy pulled out of Michael’s embrace. “Actually, yeah, what is going on? Michael? Ben? Care to explain?”

Benjie was speechless. This was too much. He and Justin had five people staring at them. What was he supposed to say?

Michael leaned down, whispering in Jeremy's ear. “Teenage drama. They made out in a closet at school.”

“Ben and Justin?!” Jeremy exclaimed a little too loudly. He received a scowl from his son. 

Jake seemed upset to be left out. “Richie, you have any clue what’s going on here?”

Rich beamed, reaching up to pat Jake on the cheek. “Not really, but I have an idea.” 

Michael grinned at him, giving him a thumbs up. He leaned down to kiss Jeremy again in an attempt to calm him. “C’mon, let's go into the kitchen. You can tell me about how you managed to bowl so badly.”

Tala coughed awkwardly, turning back around to head towards her room once more. “Yeah, uh, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go take a nap.”

Jeremy watched Tala go, but didn’t say anything about the number of naps she’d been taking lately. He was the same way. He started off to the kitchen, Michael beside him. “I think the bumpers were magnetized so I’d lose,” he began his story, voice fading into the kitchen behind the walls. 

Jake shrugged and pulled Rich in after Jeremy in an attempt to learn more gossip and to possibly give the boys on the couch a moment of privacy. Before disappearing, however, he gave a wink to Justin behind Benjie’s back. 

Unaware, Benjie sighed. “I am _so_ sorry about that,” he promised. “My damn family, y’know?” He knew it wasn’t just his family—Justin’s was there too—but he felt like he needed to apologize for the interruption. 

Justin, whose blush had yet to fade throughout the whole endeavour, disregarded the past few minutes entirely. “I like you a lot!” He blurted out, face burning even more.

What little blush had subsided on Benjie’s cheeks returned, oversaturating his skin with its deep shade. “Like–” He gulped, also having completely forgotten the previous events just due to Justin’s words. “ _Like_ like?”

Justin nodded, biting his lip. “Yeah,” he whispered, smiling timidly. 

Benjie looked into Justin’s eyes, taking a deep breath. “I-I don’t really know how to do this,” he admitted. “I’ve never a-asked someone out before.” His emotions were going haywire. Was any of this even real?

Justin gulped, stomach fluttering. “M-Me neither.” He shrugged, crooked smile on his lips. He would’ve asked himself, but he was too scared. “I've, um… I've had a massive crush on you since last year.”

Was he serious? “You mean when you stopped talking to me and Tala and got better friends?” Benjie hadn’t meant for it to come out that harshly. He was genuinely asking. He may have been a little mad about it, but he didn’t mean for the anger to show through in his voice. 

Justin’s eyes widened and he gaped. “I- Uh- I didn't _mean_ to stop talking to you guys! I just… I always got so nervous around you, I was afraid I would make a fool of myself in front of you. I'm s-sorry.”

“I thought you just got too busy,” Benjie admitted. “Or maybe you found out I liked you, so you wanted to avoid me.” But apparently, that wasn’t the case at all. 

Justin shook his head vehemently. “Of course not!”

Benjie took in another deep breath. “Kiss me,” he said clearly. It wasn’t a question, or even a suggestion. 

Justin squeaked, nodding enthusiastically before leaning in to connect their lips once again.

Benjie placed his hand on Justin’s cheek softly, as he had that day in the supply closet. The two of them sat in bliss, Benjie having virtually forgiven Tala for orchestrating the whole thing. She really had been right. 

————

“–a damn 73. You know what Will bowled? A 273. A whole two hundred points more than me!” Jeremy buried his face in his husband’s shoulder in exasperation. 

Michael laughed, lightly kissing the top of Jeremy's head. “Maybe one day you'll bowl as good as him. I mean, I'm _sure_ he’d be willing to give you some tips.”

“I know,” Jeremy grumbled. “And I shouldn’t be complaining. Our team went up in the ranks this time. Broadway Bowling is so competitive.”

Michael snorted, running his fingers through Jeremy's hair. “Why is Broadway Bowling a thing, anyway? What purpose does it serve?”

“It’s fun? I dunno. It’s just a way to make people without Broadway debuts feel sad because they’re not allowed in.” Jeremy leaned up into Michael’s hand absently. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Wow, so kind. What a good reason.” He kissed Jeremy softly before looking over to where Rich and Jake were pressed up against the wall, desperately trying to hear their children’s conversation.

Jeremy followed his husband’s eyes. Confusion built up again in his mind at the sight of Rich and Jake listening intently. “So, what’s going on with Ben, exactly?”

“I think his crush is requited, by the looks of things.”

“Seems so,” Jeremy said. “Good for him. I thought they’d be cute together.”

Michael hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, but this means that we’re gonna have to hang out with _these_ bozos more, now.” He gestured vaguely to where Rich and Jake were standing. 

Rich turned at Michael’s words, scoffing indignantly. “Wow, Mikey, how rude. To think, we were so kind as to grace you with the presence of our family. This is how you repay us? For shame, Mike. For shame.”

Jake only shook his head in agreement with Rich. Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Still, I never thought my kid was gonna date a Goranski.”

Michael pouted. “They better not get married. I don't want to be related to the Goranski's.”

Jake took full offense to that. “Excuse you? My family is cuter than yours could ever be, even if Justin marries Ben.” He scoffed, turning his nose up. 

Jeremy spoke up. “That’s just...wrong.”

Michael rolled his eyes and was about to respond when Tala wandered in.

“Hey. They're really going at it in there.” She grimaced, motioning back towards the living room. “Pretty sure they're together now.”

Jeremy sighed. “As long as they’re being safe, I support them.”

Michael snorted. “You sound like my mom.”

Tala grumbled. “Gross.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Tactic worked for us, didn’t it, Micah?”

Jake echoed Tala. “Gross.”

Michael grinned deviously, pulling Jeremy into his chest. “Mhmm,” he hummed. “Would've been a shame if they hadn't been so cool with it, especially with your hormones.” 

Tala grimaced, scrunching up her nose. “Please, please stop talking. I'm begging you.” 

Rich cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “Sorry to interrupt, but it's getting kinda late. We should really head home soon.”

Jeremy sighed. “Collect your kid first.” 

Rich grumbled to himself, calling out to Justin. “Son, Come on, get in here! Your father and I need you!”

A minute later, a rather disgruntled looking Justin appeared in the doorway, neck littered with sloppy hickies. “Yes? Hello, I'm here.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Wow.”

Benjie wasn’t far behind, hair still styled and neck clear of any marks. “What’s happening?” He seemed entranced. 

Jake took one look at his son, then at Benjie. “We’re going home,” he said, not about to mention the obvious in front of everyone. 

Justin nodded, turning to Benjie. “I’ll- um- see you at school tomorrow, yeah?”

Benjie flushed a deep red. “Definitely,” he replied. 

Jake put his arm around Justin’s shoulder. “Time to go, buddy.”

Justin nodded again, face burning as he turned to scamper out of the room and to the front door. Rich followed his family out, only pausing to wave a quick goodbye before pulling the door closed. 

Michael sighed once they were gone, turning to Benjie with a smirk. “Boy, you really work fast, huh?” 

Benjie avoided eye contact. “I had a lot of pent up emotions,” he explained, mumbling. He glanced up toward Tala, shooting her a look that was grateful, apologetic, and a little smug. 

Tala grinned back, giving her brother a thumbs up. They might argue sometimes, but they were still twins. Tala was glad her brother was happy.

Michael snorted to himself. “I'm pretty sure I said that same thing to your papa, when we were your age, to justify— nevermind.” Michael cut himself off quickly.

Jeremy’s eyes widened. “ _Anyway_ , we’re glad you’re happy.”

Benjie gulped. “Thanks?” He was happy. He felt dreamy. That hadn’t been a dream, had it? It just felt so improbable. 

Michael nodded, yawning tiredly. “I think it's time for me and Papa to go have a nap. I'm tired, and he owes me one. It's time for gay cuddles.” Michael tugged on Jeremy's wrist lightly. The kids were seventeen. They could take care of themselves while they napped.

Jeremy yawned, too. “I could really use some sleep. You two don’t destroy the house, okay?”

Benjie shrugged. “No promises.”

Michael pulled Jeremy back down the hallway and into their room, tossing himself down on the bed with a huff. “What a day, huh?”

Jeremy sat gently beside him. “You can say that again. I didn’t expect Benny to be so...much like me, I guess. Does he have any patience? Did I?”

Michael laughed, snaking his arms around Jeremy's waist as he looked up at him. “No, you didn't, but neither did I. We literally had sex, like, a week into dating. If that.” he grinned at his husband. “God, that was so long ago. It feels like just yesterday we were playing house while my parents were out on date night. Do you remember how we made brownies for breakfast?”

“One of my top five favorite days, dear,” Jeremy said, smiling. He leaned back to place a soft kiss on Michael’s lips. “Maybe top three.”

“That was the day I decided- like, _really decided_ \- that I was going to marry you. I dunno if I ever told you that.” He kissed Jeremy again. “And I’m glad I did. There hasn't been a second where I ever regretted getting together with you.”

Jeremy grinned. “Me neither, Mikey. I know it took me a while to realize it, but once I did, I never planned on turning back.”

Michael beamed back at him. “I’m glad our marriage wasn’t like the ones in movies and stuff where they just get tired of each other after a while. We’ve been together for, what, 28 years or something? I still love you just as much as I did that day. Maybe even more.”

“Maybe?” Jeremy took Michael’s glasses off of his face. His thumb grazed Michael’s cheek as the frames slid off. Playfully, he stuck them on his own nose, pushing them up. “I still remember being able to see out of these,” he muttered. “Now it’s just blurry.”

Michael chuckled, pulling the duvet out from under them and dragging it up over their bodies. “I said maybe because I'm not sure it's possible to love you more. I think I reached the love level cap a long time ago.” He plucked the glasses off of Jeremy's nose, placing them carefully on the bedside table. “That week feels like it was a dream, it was so long ago. But I still remember it so clearly.” He turned back to Jeremy, pulling him closer into a familiar embrace.

Jeremy leaned easily into Michael’s arms, but his expression turned serious. “A lot of awful shit happened that week. Stuff I never wanted you to see.” He thought of the SQUIP, when it had glitched, how Michael had to deal with it, how he’d gotten lost in the woods and had been so broken. “But really, it led to this. To us. So I’m glad it happened, you know?” Now there was no SQUIP—it hadn’t bothered Jeremy for years—no pain, nothing to hide. They had a beautiful family and wonderful children, one of which had just gotten his first boyfriend, it seemed. Life got better. 

Michael grinned lazily, leaning in to give Jeremy a languid kiss. “Love you, Miah.” He shifted to run his hands through Jeremy's hair soothingly- something he did quite often- before he spoke again. “Are we gonna need to buy, like, condoms and stuff for Ben now?”

“Oh, god,” Jeremy groaned. “If we didn’t, we’d be hypocrites, right? I don’t want to think about how he’s dating a _Goranski_. At least Tala has taste, yeah?”

Michael laughed, rolling his eyes. “You're only saying that because you had a thing for Christine. And Rich used to try to make you jealous on purpose. How have our kids inherited so much from us when we don't even share the same DNA, anyway?”

“Maybe we have time traveling kids who were _actually_ raised by our past selves from an alternate timeline?” Jeremy offered. “Or maybe it’s coincidence.”

Michael snorted to himself. “That doesn't even make sense, so I'm gonna go with coincidence.” He sighed, letting his eyes fall closed. “God, I'm tired. I thought adults were supposed to be _less_ tired than teenagers?”

“I think that was a lie to make us want to grow up, Micah,” Jeremy guessed. He poked Michael’s nose. “But I’m fine being tired when I know I can rest with you.”

Michael hummed, scrunching up his nose at Jeremy, eyes still closed. “Sing to me, Broadway boy.” Michael always loved hearing Jeremy's voice, being able to get him to sing to him to help him fall asleep was one of Michael's favorite things. He liked to use the excuse that it was extra practice for Jeremy.

Jeremy shook his head. “Mikey, I’m going on tomorrow night,” he explained. “I’m on vocal rest from singing until noon tomorrow.” Being an understudy was unpredictable. That day, Jeremy got the news that the usual actor who plays his character will be out of town, so it was his time to shine. He was always told by his voice trainer to give his singing a rest for a while before rehearsals. “I would if I could, babe.”

Michael pouted, grumbling slightly. “Fine,” he relented. “D’ya think I could sneak backstage before the show and give you a pre-show… pep talk?”

“Pep talk? I guess, but you’ll have to get past the doorman.” Jeremy could use a pep talk. “And there might be a lot of people in my dressing room, because _apparently_ my hair is a lot to handle for the costume department.”

Michael snickered, lips curling into a smirk. “Hm, I'll have to try and find some free time for your _pep talk_. Preferably after the make-up stuff.” He was definitely not planning on talking to Jeremy before his show.

“But you always say such sweet things and if I cry, my makeup will run,” Jeremy pouted. “I’m the star of the show, I can’t cry five minutes before curtain call.”

Michael was silent for a moment, contemplating how to phrase this. “Jeremy, I’m gonna suck your dick.” 

Jeremy squeaked, sounding much like his teenage self again. “B-Before the performance?!”

Michael grinned deviously. “Yes.” He confirmed.

Now Jeremy really felt like a teenager again. “I-Is that a good idea? I mean—What if I—” He coughed. “Is that wise?” His voice cracked. 

Michael hummed thoughtfully. “What if what? What if we get caught? We won't. If you can keep quiet, that is. What if the audience can tell how _wrecked_ you are? Good. That's what I want.” He gazed down at Jeremy with heavy lidded eyes. “I think it's a _great_ idea.”

Jeremy gulped. He couldn’t say no to Michael. “I-If you think it’s a good idea, t-then, fine.” He just couldn’t resist those eyes. He only hoped it wouldn’t get him fired. Or worse. The fans on social media were always quick to spot hickeys and things of such nature. Jeremy was pretty sure there were at least three blogs dedicated to deciphering his private life. And he was only an _understudy._

Michael's smile widened. “Don't worry, Love, I'll make sure to be _careful_.”

“I-If you want,” Jeremy squeaked again. He trusted Michael. 

Michael kissed Jeremy again, slow and careful. “It's a promise, then. But for now, I'm tired as fuck. Let's go to sleep.”

\--------

The next morning followed the same routine as usual, the only difference being the slight pep in Benjie's step as he got ready. A yawning Tala emerged from her room just as Benjie exited the bathroom.

Benjie was about to go into the kitchen, but he stopped, blocking the path for Tala as well. “Hey, uh…” he tried awkwardly. Looking down at his feet, he continued. “I’m sorry I got mad at you. You got me a boyfriend.” He looked back up. “Though you could have used a different method.”

Tala laughed, shrugging nonchalantly. “It's no big deal, bro. I probably shouldn't have locked you in a closet for an hour. Sorry.” She punched him in the arm lightly. “Nice job with the hickeys, by the way. Very subtle.”

Benjie rubbed his arm in mock pain. “Well, it was kinda hard to stop,” he muttered. Once he’d had his lips on Justin, he couldn’t take them off.

Tala snorted, shouldering her way past her brother and into the bathroom. “Well, good luck with that. Glad I could help.” 

Benjie rolled his eyes and thought better of responding to her. He went to sit at his place at the table when he got an idea. He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and sent a message to Justin—whose name now had a heart beside it. 

B: Do you want to scheme with me?

J: Scheme? About what?

J: good morning, by the way :))

B: Good morning! <3

B: And it’s a scheme against Tali as payback. You in?

J: definitely

\-------------

Benjie tapped his foot, waiting for Justin at the doors to the school, where they’d agreed to meet. It used to be a regular meeting place for them, but when Justin had stopped talking to the twins, Benjie couldn’t make himself wait there anymore. Tala was nowhere to be seen. According to plan. 

Justin walk through the doors, a tired, unsuspecting expression on his face. That is, until he saw Benjie. When he saw his new boyfriend his face lit up, a grin stretching across his face. “Hey!”

“Justin! Hey!” Benjie felt all the awkwardness that had built up between he and Justin in the past year just disappear, the other boy’s crooked smile contagious. He looked down at him–the adoptive genetics evident in Justin’s height, as he was only around shoulder level with Benjie, like Rich was–and beamed. 

Justin leaned up to press a hesitant kiss to Benjie’s cheek, pulling away with a timid grin. “So, Uh-” he cleared his throat. “So, Tala, then?”

“Right, Tala!” Benjie all but squealed due to the kiss on his cheek. Damn, he loved having a boyfriend. “We’re getting her back.” He paused. “But nicely.”

Justin blinked. “Right,” he said. “And how are we doing that, again?”

“Not sure. Didn’t think this through.” Benjie put a finger to his chin in thought. “She wants one of the Canigulas, right? So how do we force that on her like she did to us?”

Justin grimaced. “ _One of the Canigulas_? What does that mean? _Which_ one?” Justin furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Did the Canigulas like anyone right now? Did one of them like _Tala_?

“You didn’t know? She’s crushing hard on both of them! It’s honestly very sad.” Benjie shook his head in faux pity. 

Justin blushed, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “Uh, I was kinda distracted with my own relationship issues, honestly. I haven’t really paid much attention.” Now that he thought about it, Tala did seem to get awfully jittery around those two. “Dang, the Canigulas kinda make me upset, honestly. Do you remember how people used to make fun of them and call them test tube babies? That was seriously fucked up.”

“I know, right? It was awful. So we’re really doing them a favor with this. Or one of them. Whichever likes Tala.” Benjie refused to believe neither of them liked his sister. She was amazing, who wouldn’t like her?

Justin nodded. “Which one do you think likes her? Oh god, what if both of them like her? That would be a real mess.”

“Then she’d just have to choose. She’d like them fighting over her anyway.” Too many times had Benjie heard Tala’s two am fantasies when she thought he was asleep.

Justin sighed. “Well, I have first period with both of them, actually. So I could talk to them, if you want.”

Benjie’s eyes lit up. He stepped closer to Justin–to make room for a group of students trying to get by, but it created a very intimate situation. Out of reflex from being so close, he whispered what he said next. “You’d do that?”

Justin gulped, face burning at the proximity. “O-Of course,” He mumbled back. “It’s n-no problem!”

Benjie managed to get his voice level up. They weren’t in a library, after all. “Are you okay?”

Justin squeaked awkwardly. Damn teenager voice! “Uh-huh!” He nodded quickly. “Just, uh, n-nervous, y’know? F-First b-boyfriend and all.” he shrugged nonchalantly, staring down at his feet. “B-Being around you is… scary. B-But it a good way! Like… I dunno.” He trailed off, grimacing at his awkwardness.

Benjie temporarily forgot his plan for Tala. “I scare you? Don’t let me scare you! I didn’t mean to come off that way…”

Justin whipped his head up to look at Benjie properly. “No! Dammit, I just meant, like- I’m scared of messing up, y’know? It’s scary because I like you so much.”

“Is that right?” A smug smirk found its way onto Benjie’s face. This was exactly what he’d wanted for a very long time. 

Justin’s blush returned. “Y-Yeah,” he mumbled. He paused to compose himself. He gave Benjie a blinding grin. “I like my boyfriend a lot!” he reiterated. 

Benjie was surprised at how easily he’d fallen into the relationship, but he wasn’t upset about it, of course. “Wow, Justin. I like mine more though.”

Justin scoffed, puffing his cheeks out in a pout. “Will you just kiss me already?”

Benjie was taken aback. “O-Okay, eager, are we?” He didn’t know why he tried so hard to maintain the confident persona he was fabricating, but Justin seemed to like it. He leaned down, turning them both slightly so Justin was against the lockers, and placed his lips softly on the other boy’s. 

Justin pushed back into the kiss, elevating it only slightly in intensity before pulling away. “The bell is gonna ring, I better get to class,” He pouted. He kissed Benjie again. “I’ll talk to the Canigulas and meet up with you at lunch?”

“Yeah, thanks!” Benjie winked at him and looked at the time. “I oughta go, my class is on the other side of campus.” 

Justin nodded, hesitating. He pecked Benjie's lips one last time before scurrying off down the hallway. 

\-------------

Justin sat in his online class, students idly chatting around him. Coincidentally, he sat right in between Travis and Rachel Canigula. He turned to Travis first. “Hey, Trav, sup?” 

“Yo, Justin,” Travis turned to face him. He would have answered, but he noticed something first. “Bro, are those hickeys?”

Justin's eyes widened as he clamped a hand over his neck, attempting to cover up the marks as best he could. “Uh! Maybe? I, um, kinda got a boyfriend.” 

“Dude! Who? You finally ask Ben out? You guys are talking again?!” Travis vibrated with excitement. It was fairly easy to get him worked up. 

Justin gave him a crooked grin and a thumbs up. “Yeah, actually! Well, I think he asked me out, but, y'know, same thing. Speaking of Ben,” yes, topic change, good going Justin, keep it up. “How do you feel about his sister? Tala.”

“Huh?” Travis was caught off guard. “W-What do you mean?” His eyes sparkled with...something. 

Justin honed in on it instantly. “Well… do you like her?”

“She’s– Of course I do, what are you asking for? We’re friends.” Travis’s neutral face looked forced, but it could just be the lighting. 

Justin raised an eyebrow. “Huh, well I _heard_ from Becca that Jason was planning to ask her out soon.”

“He is?” Travis’s voice cracked. “If she likes him, I hope they’re happy together.” He went back to his computer, hiding the blush that had spread over his cheeks. 

Justin's eyes narrowed. “Yeah, only, the thing is, I heard from _Ben_ that she's interested in someone else.”

Travis froze. “Huh?”

Justin nodded. “Yeah, she has a thing for someone who's last name starts with a C. Not naming and names, though, of course.”

“Zach Kropp?!”

Justin stared at him blankly for a minute. Then two more. “...............Travis,” he started, voice weak. “That- that's a K. Not a C.”

“Nuh uh, a C can make the K sound sometimes, like in ‘can’ and ‘cough’.” Travis scoffed. “Thought you were smart, bro.”

Justin sighed. “... Travis, please, please stop talking. Just… Do you have a crush on Tala or not?”

Travis blinked. “Dude, what the hell? My love life is my business, man, just because you got a hot boyfriend doesn’t mean you can get other people spilling their secrets.” He turned a little redder, but probably due to embarrassment. Or anger. 

Justin sighed again. “Trav, _what_ could I, of all people, do with your secrets. I talk to, like, five people. You being one of them. I'm just asking because, if you _do_ , I can help you.”

“I know who likes Tala, but that’s all I’m spillin’ dude.” Travis sighed and put his headphones on. 

Justin huffed, turning around to face Rachel. “Hey, Rachel. How have you been?” Maybe he would have better luck with her.

She smiled timidly at Justin. “I’ve been well,” she said softly. “How about you? Becca says you have a boyfriend now?”

Justin's eyebrows furrowed. “How did she- whatever. Yeah, I do! It's Benjie Mell-Heere!”

“Finally?” Rachel smiled. “It’s about time, Justin!”

Justin blushed but he smiled nonetheless. “Yeah, I know. Um, say, speaking of the Mell-Heeres… What do you think of Tala?”

Rachel blinked. “What? What are you talking about? Is there another rumor about her going around? She doesn’t really have herpes, you know.” She blinked again. “I don’t think.”

“Wait, what? Since when was that a rumor? Who started that?” Justin paused, shaking his head. “No, what I meant was how do you _feel_ about her?”

“About her what? Did she do something? Is she–” Rachel lowered her voice. “Is she on drugs?”

Justin groaned to himself. “Oh my God. Rachel, do you have a crush on Tala?”

“What?!” Rachel’s exclamation was loud, and her face turned a deep shade of red. “Why would you ask that?!”

Justin smiled crookedly. “Because, I can help you if you do! You just have to tell me!”

“Hypothetically, what would you do if I said yes?” Rachel’s voice was softer and higher pitched. 

Justin's smile widened. “I would help you ask her out, because I know who she likes, and you have a very good chance.”

“You’re shit at being subtle, Goranski,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “She likes me?”

Justin pouted. “Maybe. Do you like her?”

“Maybe. Does she like me?”

Justin felt like screaming. “Rachel, oh my God. Just answer the Damn question.”

“You answer it!”

“Yes! She does!”

“Great! But I don’t like her.” Rachel shrugged.

“Rachel, What the Fuck!?”

“What did I do?!”

“Oh my God! Does _Travis_ like her?”

“I’m not at liberty to say!”

“Rachel, _Please_ ,” Justin was starting to wonder if this was more trouble than it's worth. “Please, just tell me.”

Rachel looked over to where her brother was doing their assignment on the computer in front of him, headphones on. “Fine, he’s had the biggest crush on her for, like, three years.” 

“Oh my God, Thank you. Disregard what I said about her liking you.” Justin turned away, facing his computer. Thank God. Finally, some answers.

“She doesn’t like me?”

“Well, she does, but, she also likes Travis.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Hush.”

\-----------

Justin immediately located Benjie in a cafeteria, bounding over to him quickly. “Benjie! I got it! I know who likes her!”

Benjie jumped up from his seat. “Dude, shh! She’ll be here any minute!” He sat down again, but only after giving Justin a soft kiss on the forehead. “Who is it?”

Justin blushed at the kiss. “U-Uh, T-Travis!”

“Great, did you tell him it’s game on?” Benjie made a mental note of how flustered just a kiss to the forehead could make Justin. He felt even more smitten than he had before yesterday.

“Yeah, The plan is in action! Oh, Here she comes!”

\---------------------------------

Michael snuck past the doorman easily, all he had to do was show his ring and he was in. Probably not a very good doorman, but whatever. He wandered down the hall until he located Jeremy’s dressing room. 

Jeremy was currently trying to get his costumes in order, as he had to use a community dressing room downstairs during the actual performance for faster costume changes. There was one shirt he just couldn’t find. It wouldn’t be an issue—he could just use the one bought for the normal actor—but this one was specifically fitted to his body. Great. 

Michael snuck up behind Jeremy, snaking his arms around his waist and pulling him into his chest. “Heya,” he mumbled, kissing his neck.

Jeremy knew who it was, but he jumped in shock anyway. “Micah,” he whined, “you can’t be in here, I thought you were just kidding around last night.”

Michael chuckled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I was, kinda. But I still wanted to see you.” 

“I’ll entertain you if you help me find my Act Two shirt. The black one.” Jeremy was terrified he wouldn’t be able to find it in time for the performance.

Michael pulled away from him, turning him so that he could kiss him properly. “Where is it supposed to be?”

Jeremy flushed a little at the kiss and pointed to his clothing rack. “Hanging right there.”

Michael hummed, glancing around the room. “Did you check the other racks?”

“Of course I did!”

Michael looked back at Jeremy. “Did you check your body?” He raised an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about?” Jeremy really didn’t have time for Michael’s antics. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Jeremy, sweetie, my moon and stars, love of my life, my beautiful boy, father of my children; _look at what you are wearing right now._ ”

Jeremy scoffed and rolled his eyes, looking down just to humor his husband. He didn’t expect to be _wearing_ the very shirt he’d spent half an hour hopelessly searching for, but there he was. “Oh,” he mumbled. Now he remembered. The cast had done an in-character photoshoot on set a few hours ago and he must have forgotten to take the last outfit off. “I’m stupid.” He pouted. 

Michael smiled, moving closer and dropping his hands to rest on Jeremy's hips. “It's okay. I still love you, even if you are stupid.”

“You know that’s not what you’re supposed to say, Mikey,” Jeremy pouted more, his bottom lip stuck out just so. 

Michael laughed, leaning down to kiss the pout off of Jeremy's lips. “Oh alright, fine, You're not stupid, Miah. You're just a dummy sometimes.”

Jeremy sighed. “Better.” He looked down at the shirt again. “I should take this off.”

Michael smirked, lightly gripping at Jeremy's shirt hem. “ _Or_ , I could take it off. You did say something about entertaining me, didn't you?”

“ _Michael_ , I have a performance in a couple hours,” Jeremy whined, though he really wasn’t opposed. 

Michael hummed as he kissed down Jeremy's neck lightly wish soft fleeting kisses. “I won't do anything unless you want me to, but I _am_ hearing that we have a couple hours.”

Jeremy pouted again. “Well, yeah…” he trailed off. Michael’s kisses only made him want it more, and he knew that’s what his husband was intending. 

Michael nuzzled Jeremy's neck before moving back up to his lips to kiss him again. “Yeah? I'll stop if you tell me to. Do you want me to stop?”

“N-No,” Jeremy whimpered, leaning forward just far enough to push the lock on the door. 

Michael smirked, grabbing Jeremy's shirt hem and lifting it over his head, pulling the shirt off easily. “Okay.” He captured Jeremy's lips in a searing kiss as he carefully laid the shirt over the top of the clothing rack. Once he knew the shirt was where it needed to be, he moved his hands up Jeremy's bare torso, lightly trailing his nails along the skin.

Jeremy whimpered again. “I-Is this appropriate?” 

Michael grinned, carefully walking Jeremy backwards until the backs of his legs hit the small couch in the corner of the room. “No, it isn't.”

Jeremy shot Michael a smirk before falling back onto the couch. Then, his expression changed. “The kids are home, right? You didn’t forget them again, did you?”

Michael chuckled before dropping down onto his knees in front of Jeremy, looking up at him. “Yes, Honey, the kids are home. I dropped them off before I came here.” he placed his hands on Jeremy's knees, slowly trailing them farther up his thighs as he spoke. “They're taken care of.”

“Good. A good dad.” Jeremy felt his face grow warmer with every inch Michael’s hands traveled. 

Michael laughed again, grinning up at Jeremy with a devious glint in his eye. “Mhmm. And now it's time for me to be a good husband and _take care_ of you, yeah?” His hands stilled at the waistband of Jeremy's pants as he waited for permission to continue.

Jeremy exhaled loudly and nodded at Michael to keep going. “Fine, yeah, just don’t let us get caught, okay?” As flustered as he was, Jeremy really didn’t want to get fired because of this. 

\-------------

Twenty minutes later, a pleased Michael was exiting the dressing room, hair disheveled and a crooked smirk on his face. Jeremy was going to need a little while to… recuperate. He shuffled down the hall, in search of bottles of water that he knew were kept around here somewhere. 

Jeremy was sweating, trying to calm down from his high. Luckily, he had his own water bottle in the room with him, and a few sips of it got him feeling closer to normal. He looked at the time. Half an hour until he needed to start getting in costume. 

Michael slipped back in a couple minutes later, water in hand. “Do you feel sufficiently taken care of?” He teased, dropping down onto the couch next to his husband.

Jeremy only nodded. His face was still very warm and very red. Maybe a new pre-show ritual was being conceived. 

“Good.” He leaned over, kissing him carefully on the lips. “I can stay for your show, if you want. You know I always like watching you perform.”

Jeremy looked up at him and cleared his throat, though it didn’t help his voice to stop cracking. “Will you?” He always did better when Michael was in the audience. 

Michael beamed at him. “Of course!” He pulled out his phone to check for any texts. “The kids should be fine on their own for a couple more hours.” 

“They’re old enough to handle themselves, huh?” Usually the thought of the kids getting older would scare Jeremy, but now it just meant Michael would be there for him. 

He shrugged, grabbing Jeremy's hand. “Probably.”

————

Tala sat locked in her room, Peaches watched from the end of her bed as she pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her face in her hands.

Benjie finally set off to talk to his sister. He knocked softly on her door, hearing a quiet yip from Peaches inside. “Tali?”

Tala shot up off of her bed, unlocking the door and yanking her brother into the room before throwing herself back down onto the bed. “Ben! Oh my god,” she buried her burning face into her pillow.

Benjie closed the door behind him. “Tala, c’mon.” He sat next to her. 

“H-He–” Tala's face felt like it was on fire. “He asked me out, Benj! Travis did!”

Benjie hid his knowing smile. “Did he? Congrats!”

Tala groaned. “Yeah, B-But, What about Rachel? Oh god. I said yes, We have a date this weekend! Oh my god, Ben, What do you even _do_ on dates? Fuck Dates!”

Benjie laughed. “Dunno! Me and Justin haven’t really...talked about it.”

Tala groaned again. “Save me, Peaches!” The dog barked at her excitedly in response. “Do you think Dad has good dating advice?”

“Probably not. He’s only dated Papa, right?”

Tala glanced up at him. “Isn't that, like, a good thing? He managed to marry the first person he ever dated?”

“I _guess_ ,” Benjie replied. “Do you think he actually has good advice though? And do you really wanna talk to our dad about dating?”

Tala pouted. “Well, who else am I supposed to ask!? When are they getting home, anyway? Papa's show ended an hour ago.”

“Ugh, who knows?” Benjie sat back. “Maybe they’ll bring back dinner.”

Weirdly enough, that was the moment when the two men entered the front door. “Kids! We're home. We brought pizza.”

“Right on time, huh?” Benjie said to Tala, hopping off her bed and dashing out. 

“You better wait, Ben! You know I get first dibs on the cheese pizza!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STAY TUNED FOR OUR SEQUEL!!!!  
> It’s **not** what you think!


End file.
